


Autumn Rain

by MooshSmoosh



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - School, Blow Jobs, Depression, Drugs, First Kiss, First Time, Friendship/Love, Hand Jobs, M/M, Non-Graphic Rape/Non-Con, Romance, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt, Talk of Rape, Talk of Suicide, Teenlock, i think so, is this high school au?, teen!lock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-10
Updated: 2013-12-29
Packaged: 2017-12-23 00:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 46,183
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/919992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MooshSmoosh/pseuds/MooshSmoosh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>John has to move to a boarding school in London when a big tragedy hits his family hard. the last few years have been hard and John expects this one to be the same.<br/>After some time he gets a new, slightly peculiar roommate who goes by the name, Sherlock Holmes. <br/>Things start to change rapidly and strange things happens at their school. <br/>How will it all end?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

It’s weird how the smell of old book can be so relaxing. It feels so safe being surrounded by books. John was sitting in his usual corner in the old library, from that corner he could see most of the people in the library, but they could not see him. He often came here when he wanted to be alone, or when he needed to study, which was the reason he was there now. But the smells and quiet sounds of the library distracted him and his mind flew away to other places. He thought of his sister Harry, he had spoken to her last night and she sounded quite well, considering everything that had happened. She lived in some kind of rehab, the only thing John knew was that she was getting help and slowly getting better.

Three years ago John and Harrys parents had died in a car accident. It was raining and a drunk driver was driving on the wrong side of the road. The driver and John’s parents died immediately. Harry fell into a deep depression. John tried to talk to her, tried to help her, but she just shut down. She was eleven when it happened and John was fourteen, he took it upon himself to take care of his sister even if they lived with their aunt at the time. Nothing got through the wall Harry had put up and one day she tried to take her own life.

She had started hanging out with weird people and drugs and alcohol was involved. John had tried to get her to stop hanging out with those people, but when he tried to talk to her she just shouted at him and ran out of the house. Somehow she had gotten her hands on a gun and by the time John had gotten into her room she was pointing the gun to her head. John grabbed her arm and pulled the gun away from her head toward him. Harry accidentally pulled the trigger and the bullet hit John in the shoulder.

At this point Harry was so deep in her depression and was sent to a rehab and John was sent to a boarding school in London. And that’s where he is now, seventeen, too short for the girls to like him half depressed and in the corner of a library smelling books trying to study.

“Damn!” John slammed his head against the chemistry book and sighed. “Why is this so hard? And, why do I have to do this?” He closed the book with a loud slam and picked up his mobile to send a text to Mike.

_I need company._

_Come to the library, I’m in the usual corner._

When John had moved to this school he had trouble finding new friends, he had been quite depressed and didn’t want to socialize. But one day when he had been sitting on the exact same spot he was sitting on now, a boy named Mike Stamford walked by. When he saw John alone in the corner he stopped and stared at him.

John had finally realized that the boy was staring and got quite annoyed. “Hello?”

“Are you that new kid? John…something?”

“Watson. John Watson.”

“That’s the name!” Mike nodded and continued to stare at John.

John got even more annoyed when he didn’t leave. He was sitting in a corner for a reason.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, well, you are sitting in a ‘dark’ corner in a library all by yourself. That’s never good mate.”

“W…what?”

Mike sighed and sat down on the chair opposite John. “You need company.”

“Maybe I want to be alone.”

“Hmm, no.”

“But, how, you don’t know that!”

After that Mike started to talk about everything and nothing. John was annoyed at first, but later realized how relieved he felt, listening to Mike talk about everything and nothing. They started to meet each other in that corner as often as they could and after some time John started to talk too. John thought it was nice to talk to someone who didn’t look down on him because of what had happened to his family.

John’s phone beeped and he unlocked it to see a message from Mike.

_Mate! You are going to get a roommate!_

_Apparently, he is a weirdo. Haha._

“What?”

John had lived at this school for almost five months now and he had been lucky enough not to get a roommate. But now his luck was going to end, and of course it had to be a weirdo he was going to live with. Just his usual luck.

“Why?”

He slammed his forehead into his chemistry book and sat like that until Mike arrived.

“What are you doing?” he asked when he found John.

“Studying chemistry. Can’t you see that?”

Mike raised an eyebrow and sat down.

“Did you get my text, mate?” he smiled big because he knew John wouldn’t be too happy about the new roommate.

John looked up from the book and stared with hate in his eyes at Mike. “Yes.”

Mike laughed and patted John on the shoulder. “You know, this is going to be great! Apparently he is from a very posh family and he is a genius because he is fifteen but he is going to the same classes as we are.”

“How exactly is this great I wonder?”

“It’s great because he is a weirdo. I was walking past the headmaster’s office and inside was your roommate to be and his big brother. His big brother was scolding him and trying to convince the headmaster to let his little brother stay at this school. The last school he had attended had thrown him out.”

 “Fantastic.”

 “It sure is, mate.”

 Mike always knew everything about, well everything, and it wasn’t like he had a bunch of friends. He was just normal looking, a little bit taller than John. Short brown hair, glasses and a bit chubby. The friends he had was John and some other guys in his math class that John didn’t know. But he was always at the right place at the right time and he apparently had ears like an elephant. At first John had thought this was amazing and he got to hear all sorts of gossip. But right now he wasn’t very impressed.

 “I don’t want some posh weirdo to be my roommate Mike! This is not fantastic.”

 “Oh, of course. Not fantastic.” But Mike couldn’t hide the smirk on his lips.

 Posh rich people had never been John’s favourite kind of people, and a posh weirdo can’t be a good roommate, according to a very irritated John. Well, maybe he wasn’t a weirdo, John knew Mike liked to exaggerate his stories sometimes. Maybe Mike had misunderstood the entire situation and this kid was normal? John frowned, why was he trying to fool himself? Just the fact that he was getting a roommate, wired or not, was enough to make him dislike this new person. No this has to stop, he didn’t like Mike at first either and he turned out to be kind of normal. Be positive John, he tried to convince himself.

 "When was he going to move in? Today?”

 Mike was silence for a couple of seconds. “I don’t know?”

 “What?! You know his entire life story but you missed that detail?”

 “Yes, it seems so.”

 “Excellent. Well I better go and put my stuff away before he comes into my room, I mean, our room.”

 John was irritated and had a headache, not the best combination when he was going to meet his new roommate. Maybe a walk outside in the cold air would cool him off.

 “Come on John, give him a chance at least.”

 John didn’t answer him, he put his books in his bag and walked out into the cold autumn evening. 


	2. Chapter Two

The air was fresh, like it is just after a shower of rain. John stopped just outside the library entrance and took a deep breath. Today had not been one of his best. First his stupid chemistry teacher throws in a surprise test, then he couldn’t stop thinking about his sister, and on top of that he was getting a roommate. Perfect. Just perfect. John stood there watching the world moving around him. He saw a mother and her young daughter walking on the other side of the street, they looked so happy. He saw a man, mid-twenties, iPod in his ears. He must have been listening to some really good music because John could see his lips moving and he almost skipped. What do people on the streets see when they look at me he wondered. A depressed teenager who hates his life? But doesn’t all teenagers hate their lives? As on cue a couple, a boy and a girl walked by. Hand in hand, must be John’s age. Both looked very happy and not at all depressed. He frowned and looked up at the sky. It was dark and rain clouds where hanging in the air. A raindrop fell from the sky and landed on his forehead. Two seconds later the sky opened and rain was pouring down.

“Oh sod this!” He turned his collar up and started to run towards the school.

Did the world hate him? What could he possibly have done to deserve this shit? No stop it. Thoughts like these would not help him, and he didn’t want to return to that awful therapist.

Six minutes later he reached the dorms and ran inside to avoid the rain. Not that it mattered anymore, he looked like a drowned cat. He was wet all the way through his clothes. He looked at the stairs and thought they looked steeper than usual. He sighed and started to slowly climb the stairs. His room was on the second floor and when he reached his door he stopped in front of it. 221b. For the last five months this had been _his_ room, but not anymore. Deep breath, hand on the doorknob.

“Stop being such a sissy John.” He whispered to himself and opened the door.

His side of the room was just as he had left it, stuff and clothes all over the bed. He was tidy, but today had been a bad day and his room had become the victim of his anger. The other side was empty, also just as he had left it. Maybe the world finally began to feel sorry for him and was giving him some luck. He smiled and hung his wet jacket on his desk chair. He undid the buttons on his shirt and threw it on the floor.

Just as he unbuttoned his jeans and started to pull them down he heard the door opened. Someone took two steps into the room and then abruptly stopped. He turned around and saw a thin and tall boy with dark brown almost black curly hair. He was very pale, and he had cheekbones that looked like very sharp, he could probably use them as a weapon in emergency situations. His eyes was blue, grey and green all at once. John realised he was staring and quickly looked down. The boy was dragging a suitcase, Johns first though was that if the boy wanted to he could probably fit in the suitcase. Seconds went by and it felt like years.  

“Are you my new roommate?”

The boy raised an eyebrow and looked with tired eyes at John. “Excellent deduction.”

John could feel his eyes on his body and when the boy finally dragged his suitcase into the room John could see disapproval written all over the boy’s face and just as he wondered why he looked like that he said. “Are you one of those who wear their trousers all the way down to their knees?” 

It took John two second to understand what he meant. Then he looked down and realised his jeans was half way down his thighs. He blushed and quickly pulled them up, he also grabbed a T-shirt on his bed and put that on.

“No! Eh…my name-“

“Yes I know. John Watson. Your parents are dead. You have a sister, but she doesn’t attend this school.  You are not from London, a country boy actually. Your sister was depressed, currently in some ‘rehab’ but it really is a mental hospital here in London and that’s why you attend a boarding school in London. And she was trying to kill herself but you pulled the gun away and she shot you in the shoulder by accident. That’s why you have that ghastly scar.”

John froze and stared at the boy with fear in his eyes. “Ho…how-“

“No one born in London would dress like you do. Those jeans are very ‘last year’, you must be from the country then. And because of that you have to be at this school for a reason otherwise you would not attend this school. Your scar gave away a great deal of information. So, how can a seventeen year old have been shot in the shoulder? You have a picture on your desk of you and a young girl, you both have the same nose and your eyes are rather similar so I take it it’s your sister. Your phone is placed so you easily can see any incoming texts. The picture is clean, and since everything else you own is a mess she must be special to you. So you are waiting for text from her, and you miss her. If you miss her she does not attend this school. So where is she? Bullet wound in the shoulder. You pulled the gun away from someone and that person accidentally shot you. Must be you sister. She is not here at this school and you miss her. If she tried to kill herself she is most likely locked up in some ‘fancy’ rehab in town. You had to move with her because you don’t have any parents.”

Right on every single thing, how was this possible? John was chocked, he stared at this strange kid who was now unpacking his things.

“That was amazing.” John thought he was thinking that sentence, but he realised that was not the case when curly head turned and looked into John’s eyes with confusion in his eyes.

“What?”

John felt his cheeks heat but he didn’t break away from the boys gaze. “Well, that was…quite amazing.”

The boy looked genuinely confused. “You really think so?”

“Yeah.” John took a few steps backwards and sat down on his bed, never leaving his gaze.

Silence.

“My name is Sherlock. Sherlock Holmes.”

“I’m John.”

“I know.”

“I know you know.”

They smiled at each other and John laughed and leaned back against the wall.

“My side isn’t usually this messy you know. Just had a bad day.”

Sherlock nodded and then continued to unpack his belongings.

“My friend told me you got kicked out of your old school.”

“Mm.”

Sherlock didn’t turn to face John, he continued to carefully unpack some glass jars with content that looked like a dead bird in some kind of liquid.

“Well. Did you get kicked out?”

“Yes.”

Silence. John waited for a more information, but nothing came.

“Why?”

“Oh, it may have been that I set fire to the school lab, by mistake of course.” Silence. “It was an experiment.”

“Do you often practice dangerous experiment?”

“Yes.” As he said that he unpacked a container with a big warning sign. John, once again waited for Sherlock to develop his answer, but nothing. John swallowed and hoped Sherlock would keep his experiment in the lab and not in their room. 

John was now sure Mike had been right, a complete weirdo. But maybe not as bad as John had imagined. Or maybe he was? John was quite confused at the moment. He was at least going to give him a chance and not judge to fast. John turned his head and locked out the window. The rain had stopped and the sky was clear and dark, but stars was starting to pop up. John smiled, this had been the weirdest day in his life. So far.  


	3. Chapter Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my lovely brother for helping me when my brain stops working.

Three days went by and Sherlock Holmes was yet to do something extremely strange. Sure, he kept a lot of weird looking containers under his bed, but as long as nothing was sat on fire in their room John was happy. He also had a violin in his possession, this made John a little nervous. He wasn’t a fan of loud, annoying music, and John was almost certain he didn’t like violin music. But Sherlock had not yet played any music. Most of the time Sherlock spent in the school lab. The time he spent in their room he spent in his bed where he sat pressed against the wall with his knees under his chin. He was so tall usually, but when he sat like that John thought he looked like a tiny ball. Actually, that was the thought John was thinking right now when he was sitting in his bed on the opposite side of the room. He didn’t want to admit it, but he had been staring at Sherlock for some time now, instead of reading the pages he needed to read in his history book.

*Beep beep*

John what he was doing and looked down at his book quickly and the raised it to his eye level. Sherlock Put his hand in his pocket and looked at his phone. John couldn’t resist and peeked discreetly over the edge of his book. He could see that Sherlock was frowning and when he was finished reading his text he jumped up from his bed grabbed his coat and quickly walked out  
through the door. John sat up and looked out the window, down on the ground he could see Sherlock standing in the cold autumn air. He pulled up his collar and started to walk away from the dorm. John wanted so desperately to know what his roommate was doing, but he dared not to ask. With a loud sigh he sat down in his chair and finally started to work on his history homework.

Somewhere among the pages in his book John had fallen asleep. When he woke up the room was dark, he checked his phone and saw that it was three in the morning.

“Fuck.” he said as he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes. He realised that he had a blanket over his shoulders, but he didn’t remember putting it there. He turned around and found Sherlock in his bed reading a book. “Did you put this blanket on me?”

“Yes.”

“But, why?”

“It’s autumn and therefore cold.”

John was choked and wasn’t sure what to say. “Ehm…thanks, I guess. But I can take care of myself.” Sherlock didn’t answer. John shook his head, took his pyjamas and went into the bathroom to change and brush his teeth. He wasn’t quite comfortable to change in front of Sherlock, he had been half naked the day they first meet and that had made it weird for John. He brushed his teeth and turned the light of and went to bed. Sherlock didn’t look at all like he was going to sleep anytime soon.

“Don’t you need sleep too?”

“Not as much as the average human, no.”

“What, sure, fine. Night then.”

More days past and John was once again in his corner in the library with Mike. He had sent John a number of messages the last days wondering about Sherlock. Now he was sitting in his usual spot on the opposite side of the table staring at John with a big smile on his lips. John had told him about their first meeting, and as John had suspected Mike found the entire thing very amusing.

“This is great mate!”

“Our view of great is very different Mike.”

“Oh, you need to tell me everything.”

“Well. There isn’t very much to say. He never speaks. He gets text and fly out of the room like he has a freaking rocket in his arse.”

Mike looked disappointed. “I thought he was going to be so much fun.”

“Well sorry to disappoint you.” John sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. “It’s so irritating. He is all mysterious and quiet with his crazy hair and his cheekbones. I try to speak to him and he just gives me the weirdest answer ever. Can’t he just behave like the rest of us? Be a normal teenager?”

“You noticed his…cheekbones. John, are you alright?”

John blushed and realised what he had just said. Of course it’s weird to notice your roommates cheekbones. _Crap._ “No. Yes. I mean, just look at his face and you can see how weird looking he is.”

Mike looked concerned and patted John on the shoulder. “You need to relax mate.” He looked at his phone and quickly stood up. “Shit, I need to run. Don’t become as weird as that Sherlock fellow, okay?”

John looked at Mike with angry eyes and Mike smiled and then ran away. John sighed and leaned back in his chair. Why was he behaving like a lunatic? Relax John. He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths. When he opened his eyes again, a man in what looked like a very expensive suit and, an umbrella? Was standing in front of him. The man looked like he was in his late thirties. He was a bit, overweight, but not fat. Even if he was in his late thirties his hair was very thin and John could see some grey in it. Maybe something was making him prematurely grey?

“Hello Mr Watson” he said looking what felt like right into John’s soul.  

“Who? How?”

“Oh I know a lot of things. Getting your name wasn’t very hard.” When he said that he swung his umbrella in a circle and the leaned against it. “You are my dear little brother’s new roommate. Am I right?”

“Yes.”

“As you might know, he is rather unique. Not easy to get along with. I would be very grateful if you could report to me if he did anything, not good. Here is my number. Just send a text. Of course you will be rewarded for you helpfulness.” He smiled a smile so fake and awful John could feel shivers going down his spine. This man was all wrong and John felt it in his gut. “I don’t want my little brother to get in trouble you see.”

“Why do you need me to look after Sherlock? I think he can take care of himself.”

The man laughed through his nose and sighed. “You have no idea what he is capable of John. It would be best if you moved into a new room and left Sherlock Holmes behind you. I’m actually surprised you have survived this long. No one ever have. They usually escape after the first day.” It looked like a light switched on in his eyes. “He accepts you. John Watson.” He laughed again and John was getting more and more confused by the minute.

“Who are you?”

“Oh I’m just a man. A man who worries about his precious little brother.” The fake smile appeared again and John was a hundred percent sure he didn’t like this man. For some reason John really didn’t like the way he spoke about Sherlock. John looked at the man with disgust. “I don’t want to help you. Sir.” He was sure to emphasize the last word. “Actually, I need to go now.” He stood up and was about to walk away.

“You know, you are making a mistake, John. You can’t be serious and stand behind my brother. You don’t even like him.”

John stared at the man and tried to do the thing Sherlock had done the first time they meet. He knew he was from a posh and rich family, he also looked like he was a man with a lot of power. Some mafia fellow maybe? He turned around and started to walk away. He tried to ignore the fact that he knew that he didn’t like Sherlock. “Well, I like him more than you. Bye, Sir.”

It was raining when John stepped outside, he started to run towards the dorms. He was hoping Sherlock was home so he could tell him about the weird encounter. He ran faster and a few minutes later he was at the dorms. He rushed upstairs and threw the door open. “Sherlock?!”

Sherlock was sitting on the floor and poked at some of his weird looking containers. ”What?” he looked genuinely surprised when he had realised John had been calling his name. Which was understandable since they never talked to each other and now John was storming in to their room screaming his name.

“I need to talk to you.” John was still standing in the doorway, water dripping from him since he had been running in the rain.

“First, I need to ask you. Do you always run in the rain?”

“What? No, just a coincidence. Anyway. I just met your brother.”

Sherlock looked shocked and stood up and looked at John with irritated eyes. “What did he want?” Sherlock laughed through his nose. “Did he want you to spy on me and make sure I don’t set fire to the school?” John looked chocked and could not understand how he knew that. Was it written in his forehead? Sherlock saw the surprise in John’s eyes and understood he had been right. “That bastard! Why can’t he just leave me alone?”

“Is he in the mafia or something? He looked kind of…odd.”

For the first time John saw a smile on Sherlock’s lips, and for some reason John didn’t really understand it felt like his stomach was filled with butterflies. John shook his head, looked at Sherlock and waited for an answer.

“Not mafia, but he, as he would say ‘occupy a minor position in the British Government’.” He did air quotes when he said that. “But in reality he _is_ the British Government. And he is trying to control my life.”

“The British Government?”

“Yes. You have seen all the CCTV cameras. He can control them if he want to. I’m not surprised if you was chocked that he knew your name, well that’s not very hard to look up, but if you ever went to a therapist to talk about your family, he probably read all the notes your therapist have on you. He can make the traffic stop if he likes. And he can start a war too. But he probably won’t. He is so lazy.”  

Nothing made sense in John’s head at the moment. He looked at Sherlock and just blinked, trying to get his head around things. “What are you? I don’t understand. Your brother is the British Government. You are the strangest human I have ever met. You never talk. Never sleep. And you get texts and then you just disappear for hours. Are you some kind of super-secret-child agent?”

Silence.

“What are you talking about?” Sherlock said and the started to laugh. John started to laugh to because super-secret-child agent sounded quite, stupid. They stood there and laughed for what felt like an eternity. Maybe he wasn’t so strange after all. There was some human behavior in there at least. John shook his head and closed the still open door.

“I’m no such thing. I’m just a younger brother who tries to make the life of my older brother as terrible as possible.” He was so sincere when he said it and he had been looking right into John’s eyes. Without even question his word, John believed him.

“That sounds very normal actually. Maybe the only normal thing about this whole thing. You posh people are so weird.”

“Well, since Mycroft is the oldest he is the one with all the responsibility. I can do whatever I want. Until he finds a way to stop me.”

John laughed and sat down on his bed, he looked over at Sherlock’s side of the room and was shocked to see one giant mess of what looked like, well, science stuff. Sherlock had pointed out that John’s things was in a mess. He smiled and looked at Sherlock again. “But coming from a posh family and all that. Why are you here? This is a school for normal kids you know. There must be other posh school you haven’t burnt to the ground jet.”

“Of course. But that wasn’t the first ‘posh’ school I was kicked out from. So Mycroft tried a new strategy and put me here.”

“Your brother told me you didn’t get along with your roommates.” Sherlock who had turned to his experiments once again was silent and didn’t answer right away. He didn’t turn around when he finally spoke, he just continued to poke around in his containers and glass tubes.

“You are the first one that’s not overly annoying and stupid. Although, you are stupid, but I have meet worse. But if you want to leave, you can.”

John was shocked, that Mycroft fellow was right. He stood up and started to take of his cold, wet clothes so he could change into dry ones. “I’m not leaving. Your brother is the British Government and you are a super-secret-child agent, I’m staying for the show.

“But-“

“I know, I know, not super-secret-child agent. Right?” Sherlock had turned around to face John when he had been cut off. John laughed and winked at him before he went into the bathroom to shower. This was going to be very interesting he thought as he turned the tap in the shower.  


	4. Chapter Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to my best friend and my brother for helping me with this chapter. My brain stopped working and they gave me the push I needed. They also helped me with the english. So I'm sorry if I missed any errors anywhere.   
> Enjoy your reading :)

_*sigh*_ John leaned against the wall in the school corridor and slowly slid down so he was sitting on the floor. Another test, failed. Bloody hell, this need to stop, now. How do smart people do this? Maybe he could ask Sherlock for help, he is all smarty pants all the time. No. He will just call me an idiot and continue to study bees or something weird. How did he even get bees at this time of the year? Don’t they go to sleep when the autumn comes?  *sigh* Lunch time and no message from Mike, he had been occupied with math the last couple of days. He and his math friends was going to be in a math championship and they needed to study, a lot. Which meant that John had to be alone at lunch today, and probably the next upcoming lunches too. No one likes to sit alone at lunch and it was with heavy steps John made his way to the cafeteria. It was full, he was one of the last that made it to lunch. When he entered the cafeteria it was like he walked into a wall of disgusting lunch-food smell. He wrinkled his nose as he looked at the food, today’s meal was meat gunk and over boiled potatoes. Fantastic, this day is getting better and better by the minute. John looked for a place to sit, and in the furthest corner sat a familiar figure. Even this far away John could see Sherlock’s crazy dark curls. John smiled, without knowing it, and started to move towards Sherlock.

“Not eating?” John asked as he sat down opposite Sherlock who was staring out toward the road outside the window.

“This is not food John. This is... I don’t even know.”

John laughed through his nose as he picked up a spoonful of the meat gunk and then tossed it back on the plate. “Maybe they are feeding us old food and tries to see how long it takes for someone to die.”

Sherlock released the outside with his gaze and turned to John with sparkling eyes. “Oh, that’s a very interesting thought.” But disappointment quickly swept over his face. “But probably not true.” He turned to the window again. John was staring down in his plate of grey meat and potato. Wasn’t potatoes supposed to be yellowish, not grey. He poked one with his knife and grey watery mess was pouring out of the potato. He was both happy and not so happy he skipped the breakfast this morning. If he actually had gone to breakfast it would have make its way up again by now, but he was also starving and his stomach was making growling noises. “I know a good sushi restaurant not far from here.” Sherlock turned and faced John. “Want to come with me?”

If John hadn’t skipped his breakfast and therefore wasn’t starving he would have stopped to think about what Sherlock just had said. He could never imagine he would willingly go to a restaurant with Sherlock. And he never thought Sherlock would want company for lunch. Or anything else.

“Yes! I’m starving.”

Sherlock smiled. “Come with me then.”   

They left the school and after about five minutes they had arrived at a tiny sushi restaurant. It was in a basement and if John had walked down the block alone he wouldn’t have known the restaurant was there. Inside there was a counter where they made the sushi and three small tables. They sat down in the corner and the owner, an elderly Japanese woman, approached them.

“Sherlock! So glad to see you. The usual? The same for your friend?”

Sherlock looked at John. “Oh, I’ll take whatever you have.” John said quickly. “I’m starving, I can eat anything right now.”

Sherlock smiled and turned to the owner and nodded in response, she smiled and left them to go fetch their food.

“You come here often?”

“Sometimes. Akiko and Amaya are the only ones in London who can make real sushi.”

“I don’t think I have ever seen you eat anything. Do you only eat sushi?”

“Pfft, don’t be stupid John. Of course I eat. Otherwise I would die wouldn’t I?”

“But you never eat!”

Sherlock sighed and looked at John with tired eyes. It looked as the answer was obvious to Sherlock, but John was at a loss. “Don’t you see? Digestion slows down my brain. When I am in the middle of an experiment I have to be able to use my brain at full capacity. Or else I would fail.”

John sighed. “Of course, how stupid of me.”

“I’m glad we agree.”

They sat in silence as they waited for their food. Both were annoyed at each other and the mood was, quite awkward.

No wonder he was the first one to survive this long. Sherlock could be so annoying, and sometimes John just wanted to strangle him in his sleep. The problem was that Sherlock almost never slept so John never got the opportunity. He doesn’t eat and doesn’t sleep. He is a vampire. That’s it, John thought, but just at that moment the woman returned with their sushi. It looked like a feast. John had never seen sushi that looked this delicious or beautiful.

“Arigatou, Akiko. Please, send my regards to Ayama.”

“I will. I will.” And with those words she disappeared into the kitchen, leaving John and Sherlock alone in the restaurant.

“This looks amazing! I don’t want to ruin it.”

“I guarantee you will enjoy it.”

They both dove into their plates of delicious sushi and everything was quiet for a couple of minutes. John suddenly stopped. Maki roll half way to his mouth and just observed Sherlock as he enjoyed his sushi. He looked so skinny, his face was almost hollow. He needs to eat more, it’s not healthy starving yourself like that. And for what? Some stupid experiment? John was now realising the maki roll he was holding and quickly put it in his mouth.

“You know, you should eat more often. You look like someone with an eating disorder.”

Sherlock looked at him with a look that clearly said “none of your business”. 

“Sorry. I’m sorry. I get it.”

Silence.

“Your brother said none of your previous roommates had survived living with you for more than a couple of days, tops. He was surprised I had survived this long, he said it was best if I just changed room. Why am I still here?”

Sherlock put down the nigiri he was about to put in his mouth and looked like he was thinking of a good answer. “You are [tolerable](http://tyda.se/search/tolerable?w_lang=en).” He said and the continued to eat like nothing had happened.

“What? Well…thanks?”

“You are welcome.”

They sat in silence and ate their sushi, but on the tip of John’s tongue was a question he had been thinking about for some time now. “Do you have any friends Sherlock?” John’s voice was sincere and slightly worried because he knew what it felt like, being alone, and he would not wish that upon anyone.

Sherlock stopped eating but didn’t look up from his plate. “I don’t waste time on ‘friends’, people usually come in my way. Or they are just stupid and irritate me which distracts my brain from more important things.” It sounded like Sherlock tried to sound like a stupid smartass, but John could see there was something more to it.

“Why do you put a wall around you? Are you afraid to get to close to someone? Friends help you with your troubles and lift you up when you fall. It’s just stupid to shut everyone out. Don’t think you’re some super human who can go days without food and sleep and don’t need friends. Because you are like everyone else.”

It was like a fire went off in Sherlock’s eyes, they glowed like fires in the dark. He frowned and looked straight into John’s eyes. Not blinking while as he said. “You, John Watson, know nothing about me or my past. The only reason you still live in 221b is because I’m allowing it. I can make your life very, very miserable if you give me the chance. You think you’re being thoughtful when you ask me if I have any friends. You’re not. You know you have friends and that I don’t and because of that your ‘thoughtfulness’ is a tool to look down upon me and a way to make me feel bad.” He took a deep breath closed his eyes and stood up, when he opened them again he said. “I won’t be in our room when you return to school. Do not look for me.” With those words he left John in the sushi restaurant.

It took John a couple of minutes to take in the whole thing. He didn’t look down on Sherlock. He was concerned about him. Was it his tone that made it sound like he was looking down on him? John sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingertips. He had never been good with words. If he had been maybe he would have been able to stop Harry from trying to take her life. He wanted to be friends with Sherlock, for some reason he didn’t quite understand just jet. He was so interesting, not like any other person he had ever met. Yes he was a total idiot and very hard to share a room with. But Sherlock was also so alone and it was something about him that pulled John towards him.

John ate the last of his sushi when the thought hit him. Who was going to pay for all the food? He hadn’t brought his wallet with him. He swallowed the last piece of sushi and walked to the counter. “Excuse me.” he said towards the kitchen. The woman who had brought their food came out and smiled at him.

“Yes?”

“Well… Sherlock. Left. The food, I don’t have any money one me now. Can I come back later when I have my wallet?”

The lady looked confused and the smiled the biggest smile John had ever seen. “No problem. You are a friend of Sherlock’s. No charge.”

“What?”

“He always sits alone in the corner. Never bring friends. He is often here, he helped me and Ayama prove the man who sold us fish was selling us bad fish. Apparently he wanted our business to crash, but Sherlock helped us. You must be important and special to him.”

John was the first one he had brought here? Had Sherlock finally started to trust him and John had with his gracefulness fucked it all up.

“Shit.”

“What?”

“No sorry. Thank you, it was the best sushi I have ever eaten. I need to run now.”

“Goodbye. I hope I will see you and Sherlock here again soon.”

I hope that too John thought as he rushed through the door and out on the street. He looked around, hoping he would to see Sherlock walking down the street. But of course nothing, it was almost ten minutes since Sherlock had left. Bloody hell, what was wrong with that idiot? He don’t need to overreact like that. John needed to find him and try to clean up the mess he had made.

“Watson stop being a total knob head.” he said to himself as he rubbed his face with his hands. Okay. Where would that idiot ran off to? The lab? Is that too easy? John headed back to school and found his way to the labs. He peeked inside and saw Sherlock, pacing up and down the room. Clearly he was deep in thought and John thought it may be best to leave him alone some time so he could calm down. He left the school building and headed to the dorm and 221b. Since he had failed his chemistry test he needed to study for the re-exam and now was an excellent time for that.

John closed the book with a big slam and stretched his arms and legs. Two hours had passed since he came back from the restaurant. He looked at the closed door, trying to decide if it was a good time to go check on Sherlock. Maybe a little longer, a shower would be nice. He took a long shower to cleanse his thoughts, no fuck ups now. He went down stairs into the little kitchen that was located on the first floor and made two cups of tea and then headed towards the lab.

When he arrived at the lab door he hesitated. Would this help or would he just make it even worse? Without sound he slowly opened the door, Sherlock sat on one of the tables, back against John, legs crossed and his head was hanging. “Sherlock?” John almost whispered. “Are you sleeping?” No response. John put the two cups of tea down on a table and walked around so he was standing in front of Sherlock. He was sleeping all right. John smiled and jumped up on the table opposite Sherlock so he could sit and watch him sleep. This was the first time he actually had seen him sleep, he always went to bed after John and woke up before him. He looked so peaceful. John wondered what Sherlock Holmes dreams looked like. A big lab where he could do as many experiments he wanted to? Does he dream of girls, like any other normal teenage boy might do? John couldn’t see Sherlock with a girl, that picture just looked wrong in John’s head, and he wasn’t normal. Sherlock with a boy maybe? John didn’t have time to finish his thought because Sherlock’s eyes flew open.

“Hello.”

Sherlock looked confused. ”Was…was I sleeping?” John nodded. “Oh.” He looked at John. “How long have you been sitting there staring at me?!”

“I wasn’t staring. Just…looking.”

“But how long?”

“Just 4 minutes maybe. I brought tea.” He jumped down and walked to the table the cups was standing on. “Here you go.”

Sherlock grabbed the cup John was handing him. “Thank you.” Sherlock took a sip of his tea and wrinkled his nose. “Don’t they have real tea at this school?”

“What kind of tea are you used to then? Super expensive. Super tea for rich people? Are there those gold flakes you can eat in it too? Or do you only buy your tea from Sri Lanka?” The looked at each other and burst out in laughter. They laughed for what felt like an eternity and when they finally stopped Sherlock had to wipe a tear from his cheek.

“What do you think of my family? That we are spies and that we drink golden tea? I’m sorry to say that we are not that exciting.”

“Excuse me. Your brother _is_ the British Government. That’s kind of exciting. My mum was a nurse and my dad was a mechanic. So you win the most exciting points.” John took a sip and smiled.

“So, when did this turn into a competition? Did I miss that?”

“Yes you did. I decided that when you were asleep.”

Sherlock smiled but and looked down in his cup and his face turned serious. “Before. At the restaurant. I-“

“No need to say it, it was my fault. I haven’t been very social these last few years, so my brain and I, we don’t get along all the time, and therefore I sometimes say things I’m supposed to keep in my head. I just want you to know that I don’t look down on you, Sherlock. I know what it feels like, being alone. So I’m sorry that my mouth and brain are stupid. I want to be your friend Sherlock, sorry that I messed it up.” he smiled and looked down into his tea, he could feel heat was starting to fill his cheeks and he felt stupid. Seconds ticked away on the clock on the wall and Sherlock had said nothing. John looked up and saw to his surprise a blushing Sherlock, when John’s eyes met Sherlock’s, Sherlock looked away and turned even redder.

“No one have ever, ever said something like that to me.” He looked up and met John’s eyes. ”Thank you John.”

“No problem.” He jumped down from the table and walked towards the door. “Come, let’s go back to our room. I studied chemistry for _two_ hours, my brain needs sleep and clearly so does yours.”

Sherlock smiled and joined John at the door.

“You know. You need a better hiding place. Even I could deduce you would be here, oh great detective Holmes.” John laughed and closed the door to the lab and started walking towards the school exit.

“I’m not a detective! But how knows, someday I might be the world’s _greatest_ detective. I would be nothing less than the best.”

“Of course not, my dear Holmes.”

“And you, my dear Watson, is to be my assistant.”

“Why do you need me as an assistant?”

“Every great detective needs a dumb sidekick.”

“I’m not dumb!”

They laughed as they headed towards the dorm and their room, 221b. “You know, I really didn’t mean to, scold you. It’s just that, you need friends in life Sherlock.”

“Well, I have one now, don’t I?” he looked at John with soft, questioning eyes and a small smile was spreading across his lips.

“Yeah. You do.” John smiled a big smile.  

“It’s just that. I have never been very, good, with people. And my mother and father have always pointed it out. Of course Mycroft as well. He is the big brother and I’m supposed to be like him. Good and boring. That’s why I reacted like I did.” Sherlock looked down at the floor and looked ashamed.

John was chocked, this wasn’t something he was expecting from Sherlock. He smiled and bumped into Sherlock’s side. “Well we can’t have a normal and boring Sherlock Holmes. That would be the biggest catastrophe ever.” he laughed. “Last to the dorm is a loser!” John rushed through the school corridor.

“That’s not fair!”

They ran through the school and to the dorms and John was the first one to the door. They laughed and went upstairs to 221b. Both of them were mentally exhausted from the day and they went to bed at the same time for the first time since Sherlock had moved in.

Next morning they also woke up at the same time, there was loud banging on the door.

“What time is it?” Sherlock asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“ _Way_ too early.” John got up and pulled on a t-shirt that was laying on the floor and opened the door. Outside Mike was standing, eyes wide open and face all grey. “It’s Saturday Mike. I’m allowed to sleep as long as I like.” John was annoyed and not happy about the fact that he was missing precious sleeping time.

“Everyone are being called to the auditorium. Some…someone… someone died John.” 


	5. Chapter Five

It took John five seconds before his brain realised what Mike had said. And when he did he decided Mike must be joking. “Are you drunk or something? No one is dead. “Mike was standing outside their room in the doorway with fear in his eyes and was clearly _not_ joking. “You don’t drink...” John said and walked to his bed. Mike came inside and closed the door behind him. Sherlock was up in his face the second he walked into the room.

“Dead? Who? Were? In school, hmm…murder maybe? On school grounds, ooh, how interesting.” He jumped up in his bed, sat down, crossed his legs and put his hands in a tent shape under his chin and disappeared into thoughts. 

“Calm down Sherlock! Mike, I’m sorry. Ignore the idiot. What happened? Come here, please sit down.”

Mike sat down on John’s desk chair and looked at John, he was slightly shaking and his voice was trembling. “It’s Ollie. One in my math group.” Mike swallowed and looked down. “A friend.”

“Isn’t he some super math genius? Won several competitions, loved by the headmaster because of his grades.”

Mike nodded slowly. “Yes. I never knew. I never thought _he_ would.” He stopped and covered his face with his hands.

John never knew how to handle people in shock or people who was sad in general and since Mike was his friend he didn’t want to fuck up his words and make the situation worse. John put his hand on Mikes shoulder and tried to sound as caring as he could. “What Mike?”

Mike looked into John’s eyes. “He killed himself!It’s absurd! He, he was always so happy. Didn’t have a problem in the world. It’s just wrong. Why would he do that?” He shook his head. “It’s depressed people who take their life. Those who come from families were the parents that have drugs- and alcohol problems. His family was one of those were everything is perfect.”

John ran his hands through his hair and took a deep breath. “Sometimes people hide their real emotions and put up a wall that no one can see through. Maybe they don’t trust their friends with the truth.” _Fuck._ This was _not_ helping.

Suddenly, Sherlock clapped his hands twice and jumped from his bed to the floor and took three long jump-steps towards the bathroom door and opened it. “You need to get ready John, we need to go the auditorium.” He then went inside and closed the door behind him.

“Right.” John pulled a pair of clean jeans from his drawer and his favourite white and black striped jumper from his closet and pulled it over his t-shirt. He knocked on the bathroom door. “Can I come in and brush my teeth?” Sherlock gently pushed the door open with his foot and John went inside. Sherlock was wearing black trousers and a tight, white shirt. He was in front of the mirror trying to bring order to the big mess of dark curls on his head. Sherlock was always wearing posh clothes and John always thought it looked ridiculous. But sometimes John could not stop his eyes from wandering over Sherlock’s body. John was hoping Sherlock didn’t know about it, and he always had an argument with his brain afterwards.

“Why can’t you just wear jeans and a jumper?” John asked and stretched his arm out so he was able to take his toothbrush from the bathroom cabinet. As he did this his arm touched Sherlock’s. They looked into each other’s eyes for two seconds before they started blushing and looked awkwardly away.

Sherlock cleared his throat continued to mess with his hair. “I would not in a hundred years want to steal your style John. What if I pull it off better than you do? What would you start to wear then?”

John pressed some toothpaste on this toothbrush and put it in his mouth. “I can always try the leather pants style.”

Sherlock wrinkled his nose and looked at John. “Please, don’t.”

John laughed, toothpaste foam in mouth and kicked Sherlock out of the bathroom. “Privacy thank you very much.” John saw the smile on Sherlock’s lips as he closed the door and locked it.  He was in a great mood today, John thought. Someone dies and he suddenly gets all merry. John smiled. Stupid weirdo.

When he came out of the bathroom Sherlock was standing at the door, hand on doorknob ready to leave. “Come on gentlemen. We need to hurry.” He opened the door and rushed out.

“How can he be so cheerful?” Mike asked

“I have no idea. He is a weirdo, you said it yourself remember. Just try to ignore him, works for me” _Most of the times_ , John thought.

Sherlock was almost skipping as they made their way to the auditorium.

“Sherlock. Stop it.”     

“What?”

“You are way too happy about this. You’re _skipping_! That’s NOT good.”

Sherlock stopped and looked confused which then turned into irritation. He gave John a look and then headed to the auditorium in a speed John and Mike couldn’t keep up with.

There were a few places left in the back of the auditorium when they entered, Sherlock was nowhere to be seen as far as John could see. After a couple of minutes the doors was closed and the headmaster entered the stage.

The headmaster tapped the microphone and cleared his throat before he spoke. “We have gathered you all here this morning because we have some very sad news to tell. Ollie Harris is dead. It appears he took his life late last night and he was found this morning.” A wave of surprised and shocked noises swept across the crowd. John could hear some girls sobbing somewhere in the crowd. Many started to whisper with the person they were sitting next to and the headmaster soon had to calm the crowd down.

“Silence please. I know Ollie was a very loved student at this school and we’re all shocked. The teachers will be available for those who want someone to talk too.” He paused. “You may now return to your rooms. Eight o'clock tonight there will be a memorial for Ollie here in the auditorium.” He cleared his throat again. “If you’re wondering why there are police men and women walking around school it’s because the boy was found dead here on the schools grounds. If they ask you something I want you to cooperate.”

The headmaster looked like he was in a hurry to get of the stage and away from his students and teacher. He clutched his hands, looked from one side to the other and then stormed of the stage.

“I heard he cut up his wrists!” One said.

Three student were sitting in front on John and Mike, they were talking, very loudly about different theories about Ollie’s death.

“But Ollie would never harm himself like that! He was an A-student and was focused on school, and he lived a very happy life” A second said

“Someone said he hung himself. Two students apparently saw the police take the body down.” A third said.

 “He was that kind of boy any mother would want for a son. Cleaned his room and did the dishes, type of guy, you know. And he was so happy and had so many friends. Why would he kill himself?” The second said.

“Maybe he didn’t. Maybe someone killed him!” the first one said.

“Don’t be stupid! This is the most boring school in all of England. It sounds more likely that he killed himself.” The second said. “But _if_ he took his life he must have had a whole part of himself he kept hidden on school. He wasn’t the suicide type of guy.”

John just shook his head and turned to Mike who had been quiet the entire time. John knew Mike and Ollie had been close, both was in the math team and they really wanted to win the competition they were going to participate in and therefore had been spending quite some time together the last weeks.

“Are you okay? You need something” John was worried Mike was going into some kind of shock, if he did, John was going panic and things was not going to end well.

“I’m just going to go to my room and call my family.”

“Right. Great. You need to talk, that’s good. You need me to follow you?”

Mike shook his head. “No, thanks mate, I think I can handle myself.”

“Great” It came out too fast and John bit his lip. “I mean. Okay. See you later, just give me a call if you need me.”

Mike nodded and left the auditorium, John stayed for some time. He watched the students slowly leaving the auditorium and soon there was just John, a couple groups of students who discussed if it would be possible if Ollie had lived a double life or not, and the teachers who was on stage talking to each other. Probably thinking of a strategy on how to deal with angry parents and panicked students.

John closed his eyes and leaned his head back. This stuff happens in movies, not in real life. But why would a top student with a bright future take his life just like that? John opened his eyes, and let the thought fly away and started to look for Sherlock instead. John couldn’t see him anywhere in the auditorium so he left and made his way toward the library and his own quiet corner, he needed some silence so he could think. All this was just so surreal.

When John got to the library someone was already sitting in his corner. He sighed and was about to turn around and head back to 221b when someone shouted his name.

“John!”

John turned around and saw Sherlock, in his corner.

“What are you doing here?” he asked as he sat down.

“Well, I was waiting for you of course.”

“How did you know I would come here? To this exact spot?”

Sherlock looked confused. “This is your spot is it not? I knew you would want to get rid of Mike as fast as you could since you don’t know how to handle sad people. I also knew you would want a quiet spot where you could think. You are like an open book John. I just need to read to get all the information.”

John frowned. “Could you not look into my soul every time? It’s weird.”

“I can’t look into someone’s soul, John. That’s impos-“

“Why are you here Sherlock? Why did you feel the need to seek out my corner and disturb my peace and quiet?”

For one second it looked like Sherlock’s feelings had been hurt, but he shook it of so quickly so John was never sure. “Don’t you think it’s interesting? Ollie Harris, top student, lived a happy life. Took his own life. It does not seem very believable. Or what do you think?”

“Some of the students think he lived a double life. Others think he cut his wrists open. And some _really_ crazy people think he was murdered. I don’t know what to think, everything sounds so odd”

“You are quite right. I think something is going on. And it’s up to us to get to the bottom of this.”

John thought Sherlock was joking and started laughing, but Sherlock looked very serious and crossed his arms over his chest. John stopped laughing and stared at Sherlock.

“You’re not joking?”

“Why would I?”

“We’re teenagers, Sherlock. Why would we be able to do something? Why would the teacher and the headmaster listen to us?”

Sherlock rested his elbows on the table and put his hand in a tent shape under his chin. “We are not going to talk with the teachers, or the headmaster. When we find out what really is going on we are going to the police.”

“And why would the _police_ listen to us? And wait a minute, the police don’t get involved with stuff like this. He was just a depressed teenager who hook his life to them.”

“When every single student was in the auditorium, listening to that idiot headmaster. I was wandering around school and happened to see something. They were about to carry out the body and the school caretaker was speaking to a man, this man was a Detective Inspector who goes by the name Lestrade. Apparently drugs was found on the body. But tell me John, why would a DI be talking to the caretaker if Ollie just took an overdose or killed himself in some other way? They don’t usually get involved with simple things like teenagers taking drugs or cutting their wrists open. If Ollie killed himself, they would have collected the body and that would have been the end of it. But this, Detective Inspector was not just casually talking to the caretaker. Mr Lestrade thinks the caretaker has something to do with it. I could see it in his body language and the way he was talking to the caretaker. He then went to speak with one of his colleagues, he whispered something in his colleague’s ear, the DI then went outside and the colleague was speaking to the caretaker who then started to cry and went into his office and closed the door.”

John was first impressed by how long Sherlock could talk without taking any new air into his lungs, then he was starting to see what Sherlock was seeing. “You don’t think he took his life.”

Sherlock smiled and looked pleased with John’s response. “We need to talk to the caretaker.”

“Why?”

Sherlock sighed. “We need to gather information John. Let’s go.”  

Sherlock stood up and walked towards the exit, John was still on his chair and was watching Sherlock. Yesterday, John was almost starting to think Sherlock was almost normal and not a weirdo. Just a posh, spoiled, brat who rebelled against his family and the rest of the world just because he could, and therefore was just acting weird. But no, total weirdo. John sprinted and soon joined Sherlock outside the library.

“So, the caretaker?”

“Yes. I want to know if he was the one who found the body.”

“Yeah, yeah that’s great, great idea.” John stood straight and crossed his arms over his chest and looked at Sherlock with sceptical eyes.

“I can smell the irony in your voice. What is on your mind, John?”

“Why would he talk to you? A fifteen-year-old boy.”

Sherlock looked at John and a grin was on his lips. He pulled up collar of his coat and put his hands in his pocket. The autumn sun was shining down on Sherlock’s face, and he looked…like a creature from a fairy tale. His dark curls on his head was out of control, one curl was hanging down across his left eye. His cheekbones looked like mountains in the sunlight and those blue grey eyes was looking at John with a look that made him shiver.

“My dear Watson. I know how to make people talk.” With those words he started to walk down the street and towards the school.

John was frozen in time. He stared at Sherlock’s back as he made his way down the street. He could feel his cheeks heating up, and he was quite sure it wasn’t because of the sun. 


	6. Chapter Six

“Get out of my way, you little prick.” The Detective Inspector said as he pushed Sherlock to the side and was now walking towards the exit. He was wearing black jeans, a dark blue shirt, the top bottoms was unbuttoned, and over the shirt he was wearing a dark grey coat which went down to his knees. His hair was in an ordinary shade of brown, he looked like he was in his late twenties or early thirties. When he walked by, John could see that he was very annoyed by the fact that two kids was getting in his way, and that he wanted to get out of the school building, now.

 “We just want to speak with the caretaker.” John said, Sherlock was just standing, not saying anything, just observing the Detective Inspector.

 “Well he is no longer on school property, or at least he won’t be in a couple of minutes. And won’t be back for quite some time. Don’t ask why, I’m not going to answer you.” The DI put a cigarette in his mouth and looked at John and Sherlock one last time before he went outside where he lit his cigarette, put his sunglasses on and walked towards his car.

 John turned to Sherlock. “What’s his problem?”

Sherlock made a growling noise and hit the wall with his fist. “Idiot. New, probably a rookie. But good at his job, that’s why he is a Detective Inspector, however, not as good as he should be. He knows he is good at his job and he knows his colleagues think so too. He is too sure of himself and he thinks he is invincible. He is married, but she is cheating and he is embarrassed about it. Stupid, idiot.” He took a deep breath, turned, grabbed John’s arms and looked him in the eye. “We need to find the caretaker. Before it’s too late.”

“But how? What if they already have him?”

Sherlock put his hands in a tent under his chin and stood completely still for two seconds. Then he rushed down the corridor and down the stairs towards the cellar, were the caretaker usually spent his time.

“Sherlock! Bloody hell!” John ran after him and found him in the caretaker’s office. Standing in front of the caretaker.

“Did you find the body?” Sherlock was staring at the poor caretaker who looked like he had cried and was now so shocked he didn’t know how to answer.

“Y-ye-yes. How-how did yo-“

“Not a very hard deduction, I saw the police talking to you. Now, how did you find Ollie Harris?”

“He was hanging down in the boiler room. It was horrible.” The caretaker put a hand over his mouth and sat down on his chair.

“And now the police suspects you. Don’t they.”

“Yes. I didn’t do nothing! I found him. Nothing more. I promise!” The caretaker was panicking and stared to sob.

John felt sorry for him. So many traumatic events had happened in a very short amount of time. “Sir, I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

He looked up at John “Harry Miller.” He rubbed his eyes and looked at Sherlock again.

“How do you know all this? You’re just a kid.”

“I observe. Come John. Time to go. Thank you for your time Mr Miller. He left the room and both John and Mr Miller was looking, both confused, after him.

“Good bye, Mr Miller.”

When John finally caught up with Sherlock he grabbed his arm, hard. “What was that? He is traumatized for God’s sake! Maybe it would be a good idea to not try to make it worse. You didn’t get anything out of him anyway.”

Sherlock smiled and patted John on his shoulder. “Oh, John, I got something. I know for sure he did not do it. The question is. Why does the police think he did it? We need to find out what made them think Mr Miller killed Ollie.”

John rubbed the back of his neck with on hand, looked down at the floor and then up at Sherlock. ”And how exactly are you going to get that information?”

Sherlock was quiet and slowly walked out on the schoolyard and looked up at the sky. The sun had now disappeared and grey clouds were starting to take over the sky.  His body was completely still, aside from his eyes. They were moving with and impressive speed, it looked like he was browsing through his thoughts. John could see that his brain was working on full speed, it was a, interesting, thing to witness. Then, suddenly he turned to John.

“I don’t know.” He bit his lip and looked down. “Yet. I don’t know, yet.” He started to walk from school and into the buzzing life of London. “I need some time to think. I will return tonight.”  

“Wait!” John shouted and ran up to Sherlock. “Just. How did you know about the DI’s wife? That’s impossible to know just by looking at him. Do you know him?”

Sherlock shook his head. “Never met him before.”

John tilted his head to the side. “But how?”

Sherlock let a breath out through his nose. “On his left ring finger you could see a mark from a ring. It had been taken of recently.”

“Maybe he is recently divorced then.”

“No. He took it of last night, maybe they had a fight, they are still married. Did you not see his shirt? It had been ironed, a divorced man would never take the time to iron his shirt. Simple. You just need to observe John. See you tonight.”

Sherlock walked away and John began to walk towards their room. He couldn’t stop smiling and it felt like he was going to burst out in laughter. Sherlock looked so confident when he did one of those _“I know everything about you”_ things. John couldn’t hold the laughter in anymore and started to laugh. A girl walked past him, and she turned her head and she looked at him as she walked by. First John didn’t understand why she had given him that look, then he remembered Ollie. Maybe not the best time to go around school laughing, he sprinted the last bit and hurried up the stairs to 221b. He closed the door and leaned against it, while he caught his breath.

“How does he do that?” he asked himself as he took his jacket off and tossed it on his bed. He sat down at his desk and pulled his laptop from the desk drawer, he smiled and pushed the on bottom.

“Weirdo.” It came out like a whisper. He now wondered what he would occupy himself with until Sherlock returned. He sat with his hands on the keyboard and looked out through the window. He could see some students wondering about, leafs was falling down from the trees and the sky was now completely grey. It was so quiet in the room, not that it was filled with sounds normally. Sherlock usually just sat on the floor doing his experiments, when he did that nothing could get through to him and it was therefore quiet in 221b, the only thing you could hear was the glass against glass from all Sherlock’s glass tubes. It’s just that, John didn’t like to be alone in 221b, sure Sherlock did disappear sometimes, but then John usually went to the library or hung out with Mike, and sometimes John fell asleep before Sherlock returned. Since Sherlock had moved in being left alone in this room felt, unpleasant. Waiting like this was boring and terrible. John didn’t want to disturb Mike, or maybe he just didn’t want to be with him while he was sad, John couldn’t quite decide.

“You could go out and socialize John. You know, like normal people do.” He slammed his head down on the desk. He sat like that for a while, then suddenly he stood up and picked up his jacket from the bed. If he stayed here he was going to start talk to himself even more, and that’s never a good sign.

He was standing outside the school gates and was trying to decide what to do. A walk in the park maybe? He looked up at the sky and saw the dark clouds, it was going to rain soon, not outside then. He could go to the shopping mall, but he quickly remembered he hated shopping. He started to wander around London and after about an hour or so he saw a very pretty girl walking on the other side of the road. She had long strawberry red hair, she was short, shorter than John, and when she for a second turned towards John he could see her dark green eyes. Her eyes met Johns for a second before she went into an arcade. John felt butterflies in is stomach . She was the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. He had to speak with her. He ran across the road and into the arcade.

Inside it was dark, all the windows were covered, there was five or six boys in his age in there, all of them very focused on the game they were playing. It was a big room filled with different games you could play, there was Donkey Kong, Pac-man, Mortal Kombat, Space invaders and many, many more. John was amazed and wished he had known about this place earlier. He looked around for the girl and finally saw her in the corner, playing Ms. Pac-Man. He started to walk towards her but stopped after a few steps. What was he going to say to her? _“Hello. I followed you here.”_ John rubbed his face with his right hand and clutched the left one. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing, but he wanted to talk to her, desperately. After a minute or so people was starting to look at him, he was standing in the middle of the room just, standing, it must have looked kind of weird. He cleared his throat and made his way to the girl.

“Hello.” He said with a shaky voice. She turned her head, looked at him and smiled at him.

“Hi.”

John could feel all the butterflies in his stomach again and he felt his face turn red. “I-I’m John.”

She smiled even bigger and turned her entire body towards him and leaned her hip on the machine, as she did that she tossed her long hair over her shoulder and John could smell it. It smelled like strawberries, just like the colour of her hair. “Hi, Johnny. My name is Sarah.”

“Hello, Sarah”

Awkward silence.

She laughed. “Did you need something, Johnny boy?”

John swallowed, straighten up, put his hands in his pocket and smirked. Get your act together for God’s sake he told himself. It was like he was struck by lightning and he turned into someone else. “Well I saw you from across the street and thought; _‘I need to talk to that girl.’_ Is that weird?” He looked into her eyes and she looked back.

“No, no, not at all” she grinned. “A man gotta do what a man gotta do. Right?” She moved closer and John could smell her perfume now.

“Yeah.” He laughed through his nose and looked at the game she was playing. “You any good?” he asked and pointed a finger at the machine.

She looked at it and then back at John. “Very good. I spend way too much time here.” She laughed and looked down. “It’s quite addictive actually. Want to try it out?” she stepped aside so John could stand in front of the game instead.

“Sure.” John smiled and took his place. She taught him how to play it, she showed him some glitches you could use in your advantage. After some time they tried other games as well, they laughed and were having a really good time. John hadn’t smiled and laughed this much for quite some time so it was nice to just fool around and have fun for once. In the middle of the arcade there was a pool table, this was something John knew he was good at. In their old home they had a pool table in the living room and John and his father used to play pool all the time.

“But I don’t know how to play pool.” Sarah protested and crossed her arms over her chest.

“It’s easy, I promise. Here let me show you.” He took the cue leaned over, placed his hand on the table and showed her how you were supposed to stand to get the best result. “See, just like this, then you just hit those other balls and get points, sort of.” He smiled and she started to giggle.

She took the cue from his hands and leaned over the table, just like John had done. She looked over her shoulder. “Am I doing it right?”

John didn’t hear her, his eyes was wandering over her body. She was angled her body so John was standing behind her. He followed the curves on her body with his eyes and they stopped at her arse. She noticed what was going on and smirked. “Johnny boy.”

“W-what?!” he came back to reality and saw Sarah’s smirk. “Oh I-I’m sorry.”

She stood up and leaned against the pool table and looked into his eyes. John thought her eyes looked even darker and he didn’t really understand why. She suddenly grabbed his waist and dragged him closer.

“Liked what you saw?” she was so close to his face now, he could see every detail in her dark, green eyes.

“Yes. Yes I did, actually.” 

She frowned “ _Actually_? You didn’t think you would like it?”

John looked down and rubbed the back of his head. “I didn’t mean it like that. Sorry, I’m not good with words.”

She tilted her head slightly to the side and looked up, straight into his eyes and smirked. “What are you good at then? Because I know something that don’t requires words, but mouths.” 

John didn’t know what was happening. His voice wasn’t working anymore, he didn’t even understand how he got himself into this situation. He never talked to girls, they usually avoided him because he looked depressed and sad. But Sarah was very different, mildly put.

Sarah grabbed his hand and dragged him into the restroom. “I want to kiss you.” She said, and before John had a chance to respond she had pressed him up against the wall and her lips was on his. 

First it was awkward and John didn’t have control over what was happening. It was teeth against teeth, but then he got into it. He grabbed her and turned them around and pressed her hard against the wall, she made a surprised sound and he felt her simile against his lips. The kiss was now deep, hot, and rough. Lips were being sucked, tongues entwined, and hands all over their bodies. John had to pull away just so he could take a breath.

“Damn, you’re god at this.” Sarah panted.

“You’re not that bad either.”

Sarah smiled in response and John felt a hand on his belly, it started to slowly glide down and soon he felt a hand rubbing against his crotch.

“Fuck.”

Sarah leaned against him and whispered into his ear. “Like it?”

He did, oh he really did. But at the same time this was so absurd. Was he about to have sex in a restroom? He didn’t do stuff like that, and he didn’t even know this girl, they had just met. The butterflies was gone and this just felt, wrong.

“I-“John didn’t have time to say anything, his phone was ringing. He picked it up, it was Sherlock. _Thank you!_ He thought.

“Sorry, I need to take this.” Sarah let go of him, she looked disappointed and crossed her arms over her chest.   

John answered the phone and pressed it to his ear. “Hello?”

“John it’s me, Sherlock.” Sherlock sounded very excited and was almost tripping over his words as he spoke.

“Yes, know. What do you want?”

Sherlock took a deep breath and was just about to say something when he exhaled instead. “Am I interrupting something?” he sounded surprised and confused.

John glanced over at Sarah, he saw her looking at him so he turned his back against her before he answered Sherlock. “Er…no. No of course not, go on.”

“Oh. Well, I said I needed some time to think. Well, I have an idea now. I’m back at our room now. Where are you? I thought I was going to find you here when I got back.”

“I went out for some air. Just took a walk around town.”

“You took a walk for five hours?”

“You said you would return tonight. I wasn’t going to sit and wait for you all day.”

Sherlock took a deep breath through his nose. “Well I got home earlier because I thought you might not want to be alone the entire day.”

“Well. Thanks? I guess. I can take care of myself you know.” John rubbed the back of his head and moved towards the door.

“Come at once.” With those words Sherlock hung up, in John’s ear.

John smiled, _idiot_ , he thought.

“Ahem.”

John turned around and saw Sarah leaned against the wall, looking quite irritated.

“I need to go. Sorry. Thanks for the snog.”

John opened the door and rushed out, but before he left the room he could hear Sarah saying “Bloody idiot.”

John ran out of the arcade and towards school and the dorms. He was going to need a cold shower when he got home. Shit, what had just happened? They were having a good time, just hanging out, like people do. Then it just turned into something very different. John liked to think of himself as a gentleman, and he would never try something like that on a first date. Which made the whole thing even weirder since this wasn’t a date. He didn’t even want a girlfriend at the moment, it was way too much work. But it was something about her that just had dragged him towards her and for a moment he had no control over his body. John shook his head and ran even faster to the dorms.

When he entered 221b Sherlock was sitting on John’s desk, looking out through the window.

“Hey! That’s my desk, Sherlock. Get off.” He threw his jacket on his bed and walked up to Sherlock and tried to drag him off the desk, but he didn’t move, at all.

“I have an excellent idea, John.” He turned his head and looked at John, he looked excited. He stood up and was therefore now standing on the desk, then he jumped down and landed in John’s bed, he jumped one more time and landed next to John. He then took two long steps and stopped in the middle of their room and looked, with excitement in his eyes, at John.

“My dearest, Watson. We are going to break into the police station.”


	7. Chapter Seven

John blinked once, and then twice, he didn’t say anything and neither did Sherlock. They just stood there, looking at each other, waiting. Sherlock for a response, or a reaction from John, and John for Sherlock to start laugh and tell him it was a joke, but there was just silence and nothing happened. The only thing that could be heard was the rain against the window. The sky had been filled with too much grey and the rain had started to pour down again. The day had ended and evening was here, the darkness fell quickly, as it always did in the autumn.

John finally sat down by his desk and pushed the light switch on his desk lamp so the room was filled with light. Sherlock was still standing and waiting for John to say something. John swallowed and rubbed his face with his hands and then turned to Sherlock.

“You know we can’t do that, Sherlock.”

Sherlock sighed and looked disappointed. “And why not?” his arms fell heavy against the sides of his body.

“It’s against the law! We are going to get caught!”

Sherlock sat down on the bed, their knees were touching as they sat, facing one another. He looked at John with calm eyes and put one of his hands on John’s knee.

“We don’t _have_ to get caught.”

John pushed his hand away and stood up and walked towards the bathroom door. He wanted to take a shower and not think of anything at the moment. As he opened the door and was about to walk inside he said: “You go. But is it really worth it, Sherlock? Can’t you just let the police do their job? Please, don’t be an idiot.”

“But they are-“

John closed the door and locked it before he heard the end of Sherlock’s sentence. He turned the shower on and took his cloths of and threw them in the laundry basket He was tired of the drama at school, and he didn’t understand why Sherlock wanted to get mixed up in it as well. He sighed, he wanted to talk to his parents about all the things that had happened the last couple of days. John rubbed his eyes, he missed them so much sometimes.

He stepped into the shower and let the hot water pour down over him, he tilted his head back so his face could be right under the beam of water. After a few seconds he looked down, he shouldn’t have acted like that towards Sherlock, it was just unnecessary. Sometimes he just couldn’t hold his emotions inside and they spilled out over whoever was in front of John at the time. John scrubbed his face and washed it under the beam of hot water.   

He showered and left the bathroom, he was now determent he should apologize to Sherlock and move on with the evening. He entered the room and Sherlock was nowhere to be seen. John got dressed and went down to the kitchen and made a sandwich, maybe some food would help with the headache that had started to pound his head and the bad mood.  He took the sandwich with him upstairs and finished it in front of his laptop. He didn’t know what to do know, he wasn’t very keen on going to the memorial, maybe it made him a bad person, but he didn’t want to surround himself with grieving students. He turned off the light and laid down on his bed. He stared at the sealing, and he listened to the rain outside. Soon his eyelids grew heavy and he fell asleep.

When he woke up the room was even darker and still quiet, the rain was not pouring down anymore, just the last raindrops making their way down from the clouds. John swept the room with his eyes, Sherlock was still missing. John checked his phone for messages, but nothing. The clock showed that it was 10:30 pm, John was shocked he had slept that long.

Where were Sherlock? He asked himself as he stood up and started to walk around in the room, looking, like Sherlock would be hiding behind the closet or under the bed, but of course he wasn’t there. John remembered he what he had said earlier, about braking into the police station. What if?

“Stupid, fucking, bloody IDIOT!” John almost screamed as he grabbed his jacket and ran out through the door, down the stairs and out of the dorm. He was going to break into the police station, wasn’t he? John couldn’t just leave him there, alone. He would get caught and….and get thrown out of the school. John ran towards the police station, he didn’t know what he would do once he got there, but he didn’t really care about that at the moment. He didn’t even know why he wanted to stop Sherlock from making a big mistake, it just felt like the right thing to do.

When he arrived at the police station he saw lights in the windows and John could see a couple of shadows moving around inside the station. Sherlock wouldn’t be so stupid that he would break in while there was still people inside. Or would he? He walked around trying to see if Sherlock was hiding somewhere nearby. But John didn’t see anyone that looked like Sherlock in the area around the police station.

“Where could he be?” John sat down on a bench under a tree and picked up his phone from his pocket.

“I am here.” A voice whispered

John looked around but saw no one. “Hello?”

“Look up, stupid.”

John did as the voice said and saw Sherlock sitting in the tree he was sitting under.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“I am waiting.”

“For what exactly?”

“The right moment of course. Come, there is place for you too.”

John crossed his arms. “You want me to climb a tree?”

“Yes.”

John sighed and kicked a stone which was laying on the ground. He looked up at Sherlock and saw that he was looking down at him.

“As you wish I guess.” John murmured and started to climb the tree. “You know I hate you, right.”

“Why did you come after me then? Just to tell me you hate me?”

John stopped half way up and looked at Sherlock. “Something like that. Didn’t want you to go to prison thinking I liked you. What a tragedy that would be.” John laughed and climbed up to Sherlock who was sitting with one leg on either side of a big branch where he could see the police station clearly. John was aiming for a branch next to Sherlock he climbed carefully and watched where placed his feet. The rain had stopped, but the tree was wet and slippery and John didn’t want to fall down and crack his back or break his leg, or something. Just at that moment he slipped and with one hand he grabbed the nearest branch, with the other one he grabbed Sherlock’s arm. Sherlock held him in a tight grip and John managed to not fall down.

“Thanks, I think you saved my life there.”

“Oh, please. Don’t be so overdramatic. Maybe you would have broken something, but hardly died.”

John shook his head as he made his way to his branch. His hand was still on Sherlock’s arm and he feel that his coat was wet, and very cold. When John took a closer look he could see that Sherlock was soaked. His hair was wet and his lips were starting to look bluish in colour. 

“How long have you been sitting here exactly? You are cold and soaked to the bone, Sherlock. You’re going to be sick.”

Sherlock pulled his arm away and looked down at the station again, avoiding John’s eyes. “I never get sick.”

John sighed. “Of course not.” Stupid prick, it’s not worth it. He was going to get sick, and for what? Some stupid mystery that maybe wasn’t even a mystery? He glanced over at Sherlock, he was watching the station with hawk eyes, not missing anything that was going on inside. John wondered what he was thinking. Did he have a plan on how to break in? And what if they got caught? What if _Sherlock_ got caught?  John wasn’t going in with him, no, not at all. This boarding school was boring and stupid, but it was his only home, he didn’t want to get thrown out. And how long were they going to sit here anyway? John sighed, he was getting way too grumpy and that never helped with anything.

“What are we waiting for?” he asked, trying not to sound too grumpy.

He didn’t leave the station with his eyes as he answered. “There are two officers left. They need to go before we can sneak in.”

“And how exactly _are_ we going to sneak in?”

“Just wait and see.”

John crossed his arms over his chest and leaned back against the tree, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The air was fresh and clean and it felt good in his lungs, autumn wasn’t so bad he thought. He liked the chilly, clean air, he even liked the rain. Sometimes he could lay in bed and listen to the rain falling on the roof over his head, well he used to, in his old home. He could still hear the rain when it hit the window in 221b, but it didn’t sound like home to John.

“You were with a girl before, when I called you.”

John opened his eyes and looked at Sherlock, he was still observing the station. “How did you know?”

“You have a hickey on your neck.”

John instinctively grabbed his neck. “Do I?” he didn’t remember Sarah doing that.

Sherlock now turned to John. “Why a girl?” it was a genuine question, which John didn’t understand.

“Well. I’m a boy. Boys like girls, you know. Teenagers do stuff they don’t plan on doing and sometimes…things happen…”

It looked like Sherlock was taking in the information and was now cataloguing it in his brain. After a few seconds his eyes came back to reality and he nodded slowly. “Was it…good?”

What was with him? He was being more awkward than usual. John was annoyed and didn’t want Sherlock poking around in his brain or his life. Maybe it was best if he just left him to his little adventure and went home and got back to bed. He jumped down and was about to go back to school and the dorm, but Sherlock stopped him. He also jumped down and then grabbed his arms and dragged him around the other side of the tree and pressed him up against the tree. Everything happened in just a few short seconds and John’s brain wasn’t fast enough to react.  When it finally did, it wasn’t very happy.

“What the fu-“

Sherlock pressed one of his hands over John’s mouth and leaned in closer, their faces was just an inch from each other now. He then put his index finger over his own mouth and made it clear that John was to be quiet. John saw Sherlock’s eyes follow something John couldn’t see on the other side of the tree, thirty seconds went by before Sherlock finally released John and took a step back.

“What is your problem!?” John pushed Sherlock so he had to take another step back.

Sherlock pointed at the station. “They left. The last of the police officers finally left, we can sneak inside and find the information we need.” He looked excited and started to walk towards the station.

John looked at his phone, 12:00 pm, later than he had thought. He looked at Sherlock who now was on the other side of the street and was standing in an alleyway beside the station, he was waving and wanted John to come to him. Sherlock disappeared into the darkness and John ran after him.

When John reached Sherlock he crossed his arms over his chest and said “So, what’s your ‘master plan’ Mr _Detective_?”

When Sherlock heard the last word he turned to John, he was frowning but John could see a hint of redness on his cheeks, but he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold air or what he had said.

Sherlock cleared his throat and pointed at a small window which was located near the ground. It was old, dark, and dirty and Sherlock had moved some boxes which had been standing in front of it.

“We are going in this way. We just need to open the window somehow.” He stopped and took a deep breath. “Or we could just…” he kicked the window and the window cracked open.

“You’re- I don’t even-“

But before he could finish his sentence Sherlock had dove into the now open window.

“Bloody hell, Sherlock!” John crouched and looked inside, but he saw nothing but darkness. “Sherlock!” he raised his voice as much as he dared to, what was he supposed to say if someone saw what was going on.

“Come in. The coast is clear.”

John took three deep breaths and climbed down into the darkness as well. He didn’t do it as gracefully as Sherlock had, but eventually he felt ground under his feet. He looked around but he still couldn’t see anything. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room he saw boxes everywhere, some were labelled, and others weren’t. The only light source was the now broken window they had crawled into. The floor was covered with dust as well as the boxes. As they walked around in the room dust started to fly around, John inhaled and some of the dust went down his lungs and he started to cough. He didn’t like this, not one bit. Why had he followed, he could just have stayed outside.

 Sherlock was walking around, examining the room, he opened some of the boxes. “Full of old paper work. We must be in the basement, in an old storage room maybe.”

John saw the door and tried to open it, but it was locked. He sighed and rested his forehead against the cold door. “It’s locked.” The whole situation felt even more stupid and idiotic now. What if they were found? What then? John felt a light, warm hand on his left shoulder, he turned his head and saw Sherlock, with a big smile on his lips.

“I know.”

Gently he pushed John to the side and kneeled before the door He reached down into his pockets and pulled out a tension wrench and a paper clip, he straightened the paper clip and bent one end of it. He then started to pick the lock. John looked, fascinated as Sherlock worked on the door, he had never seen anyone do this in real life.

“How do you know how to do that?”

“Well, as the youngest brother it is my duty to annoy my dear older brother. When I was a child I used to break into his room and steal, well anything. He started to lock his door when he was not there, so I had to learn how to pick locks. He had to change the lock on his door a few times over the years.”

John laughed, and he saw the pleased smile on Sherlock’s lips. “That’s awesome. And I think your brother deserved it.”

Sherlock stood up and looked at John, smile on his lips. “Oh, he did indeed.” His voice was unusually low and his eyes was dark. Without taking his eyes of John he pushed the door open. “After you.”

John looked at Sherlock, then at the door, and then at Sherlock again. He poked him in his belly and laughed through his nose. “You’re kind of amazing, Sherlock Holmes.” He walked up to the door and looked outside, no one was there. He took a few steps out in the corridor and realised Sherlock wasn’t following him. He looked back into the room and saw him at the same spot he had left him.

“Sherlock?”

Sherlock came back to reality, cleared his throat and spun around and the rushed out of the room, pretending like nothing had happened.

“We need to search for Detective Inspector Lestrade’s office. The documents on the case has to be in his office.”

They slowly made their way through the station, it was much bigger than John had thought while looking at it from the outside. He had to stop Sherlock from stealing equipment and papers, more than one time. But he saw, in the corner of his eye that he sneaked random things down his big pockets when he thought John wasn’t looking. John just smiled and acted like he didn’t see it.

“So, what are you going to do when you find the information you need?”

“It depends on the information.”

“Right.” John wanted so badly to know what is going on inside Sherlock’s head. What did it look like? Like the inside of a computer? A library? A forest? As he walked, lost in thought he saw a door with the name Lestrade on it.

“Oi, look at this. Greg Lestrade. That’s our guy right.”

Sherlock, who was way down the corridor, turned and sprinted to the door. When he saw the name his eyes lit up and he grabbed John’s arms and open his mouth, like he was going to say something. But a sound stopped him, the sound of a door, far away, first opening and the closing.

“The door. Is it open?” John whispered. Sherlock grabbed the handle and tried to open it.

“It’s locked!”

John could hear a hint of panic in his voice.

“I think it’s time you show me how fast you can pick a lock then.” John tried to sound as calm and soothing as he could. “I will keep a look out, you do your thing.”

“Yes, of course.”

Sherlock shook his head and the panic in his voice and eyes was gone. He started to pick the lock and John tried to listen after the sound of footsteps. He could hear them, first in the distance, but they came closer and closer. He glanced at Sherlock, he was still trying to pick the lock but his hands were shaking slightly.

“Sherlock. It’s coming closer.”

The steps were echoing in the bare, empty corridor and it was just around the corner. John felt a drop of sweat rolling down the side of his forehead and his hands had begun to shake. It must be the cleaners, right? What if it was Detective Inspector Lestrade, and he was on his way to his office. Oh, God no please let it be a cleaner.

“There!” Sherlock open the door and they ran inside and closed the door as quickly and quietly as they could. Just two seconds after the door shut they saw an outline of a woman outside. She went past the door and hadn’t noticed them. They looked at each other and exhaled, too close.

“So, where could the documents be then?” John looked around, it wasn’t much in the room. Some archive lockers, which was clearly locked, two bookcases filled with all sorts of documents. He walked around and sat down in the chair at the desk. His eyes fell upon a picture frame, in it was a photo of two children, a girl and a boy, the girl looked like she was maybe two, the boy was just a baby. They must be Lestrade’s children, John remembered what Sherlock had said about his wife, he hoped he was wrong for once. The desk had a few drawers, he pulled out the top one and found a file and on it _“Ollie Harris”_ was written.

“Sherlock, I think I found it.”

He handed it to Sherlock and he opened it. His eyes flew over the pages and he frowned. When he was done he threw the file at John and spun around and rubbed his temples.  John was confused, he looked at Sherlock and then down at the file and read it.

He looked up and met Sherlock’s eyes. “He didn’t kill himself.”

“Someone injected a dose of potassium cyanide into his neck with a syringe. That is what killed him. It is a very strange way to commit suicide, don’t you think? Where would Ollie be able to get potassium cyanide? And the caretaker said he was ‘hanging in the boiler room’ he would not be able to inject potassium cyanide _and_ hang himself. Too complicated for a suicide. According to the file, the police have no idea why he was hung. Typical.”

“It sure is odd, it’s like in those old detective stories where they always use potassium cyanide.” John looked out through the window, it had begun to rain again.  “But I don’t understand, you said the caretaker didn’t do it. But it says here that the syringe was found in his office with his fingerprints on it.” He looked at Sherlock for answers.  

“It was planted of course. You were there, that man is not the one who killed Ollie Harris.”

He was right, the caretaker was in shock when they had been talking to him, and you could not act that fear that had been in his voice and eyes. John nodded slowly and looked down into the documents in his lap again.

“And what about the drugs? Why was there drugs on the body? Ollie wasn’t using drugs, I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe they were planted on him for some reason? But why? And why frame the caretaker?”

He joined his hands behind his back and started to pace up and down the room. John leaned back in the chair and took a deep breath.

“Lucy, you in late again?”

“As always, sir. But why are you here at this hour?”

“I just forgot a couple of documents I need.”

Sherlock froze in step, John jumped out of the chair. “Is that?” he whispered as loud as he dared.

“Detective Inspector Lestrade.” Sherlock’s eyes were flying around the room, looking for an exit, they finally landed upon the only window in the room. “Window. Open. Now!”

John turned and was trying to open the window, but his shaking hands weren’t helping him. Both of them froze again, they heard the sound of a key being pushed into a lock and then turned. Lestrade tried to open the door, but since Sherlock had unlocked it, he had now locked it.

“What the-“

He struggled with the keys, by doing that he gave John extra seconds to open the window. _Finally!_ As John dove out of the window and Sherlock followed him Lestrade had managed to open the door and saw the back of two kids running down the street.

“What! Who are you?! Stop it! You pricks!”

“Run!” Sherlock shouted as he ran past John.

“I am!”

“Clearly not fast enough!”

They ran and ran, down dark alley ways, up streets, down streets. Finally they reached a park and John stopped. “Sherlock, wait. I don’t think he followed us.”

Sherlock looked around to see if someone else were there. “I think you are right.”

John leaned against a tree, Sherlock did as well. John was so amazed by the situation he found himself in. He had just broke into a police station. He started to laugh, he punched Sherlock on the arm.

“This is stupid.” Sherlock looked at John and started to laugh as well. “You are so, weird and amazing at the same time Sherlock, I don’t understand.”  

Sherlock blushed and looked down. “No I am not. I just, need something to occupy my brain with or I will get bored. This is too mysterious and delicious to ignore.”

“Yeah, and we can’t just leave it now, can we?”

 Sherlock smiled. “No we cannot.”

They looked at each other, not saying a word. The rain had stopped but they were both soaked to the bone. Though, none of them was freezing. The moon peeked through the clouds, they could hear cars driving in the night, people talking in the distance, and their own breathing. Sherlock locked into John’s eyes and moved closer, with his finger he brushed away some raindrops on John’s cheek.

“Sherlock?” Johns breathing was heavy, not because of the running. He moved a curl which was hanging down his face, he followed the outline of Sherlock’s jaw with his finger. His eyes fell upon Sherlock’s lips, John thought they looked beautiful, when they first had meet they had looked so strange to him, so stupid now that he thought about it. Sherlock grabbed John’s jacket and tugged him closer. They were so close now, adrenaline was pumping through their bodies, and their eyes were dark with arousal. John realised Sherlock breathing was heavy as well, he looked at John’s lips and then into his eyes again, he moved closer. Just as Sherlock’s lips were going to touch John’s, John took a step back.

“Sherlock.” He looked down at his feet, trying to get his voice to work again. “We are friends. And we are guys. You know…” John cleared his throat and tried to look at Sherlock, but his cheeks were getting very hot and he looked down instead.

Sherlock stepped back and looked awkwardly at the ground and rubbed the back of his head with his hand. “Yes. Yes of course, you are right. I am sorry. Let’s. Let’s just go home.”

They walked home, slowly, in silence. It was awkward, and John was confused, why did he step back? For just a second, he really wanted Sherlock to kiss him, it had felt so right. But he liked girls. Right? He had never looked at a bloke and felt the same thing he felt when he looked at a beautiful girl. Why was he confused now?

When they got to the dorm they undressed and got ready for the night in silence.

“Good night.”

Sherlock didn’t answer, he had his back towards John and he had pulled his blanket all the way up to his ears. He had been quiet and avoiding eye contact all way home, John was starting to worry if he had hurt him.

John sighed and climbed down in his own bed, rolled over to his side so he faced the wall, he was going to fix this he thought, and he was not going to lose Sherlock as a friend. He also needed to sort out his feelings and he needed to understand why he had wanted Sherlock to kiss him. Things were getting weird and complicated very quickly, and John didn’t like it at all.  


	8. Chapter Eight

John stretched in his chair, finally the last lesson of the day was ending and he could get out of the classroom. He was in a good mood, todays lessons had gone smooth, the lunch had been edible. John didn’t remember the last time he had been in such a good mood. And on a Monday. They always sucked, but not today. He walked out of the school and straight to the nearest shop, he was craving candy and since he had done a good job on today’s lessons he thought he deserved it.

He met Mike in the door, he was carrying a bag from the shop, filled with candy and ice-cream.

“Oh, hello Mike. How are you doing?” John smiled a tight smile, it probably looked fake.

“Hello. Fine I guess.”

John could see that he wasn’t fine, he had dark circles under his eyes, pale face, and a bag of candy.

“Look. I’m sorry. I know I haven’t been the best friend these last couple of days. It’s just that-“ John stopped before he could finish his sentence. What was he going to say? “I don’t know. How to act when someone’s sad. Sorry, I’m stupid. “  

Mike smiled and put a hand on John’s shoulder. “I understand. Just be there when I come back from the dead. So we can go on as always. Deal?”

John smiled, a real one this time. “Deal.”

They said goodbye to each other and John went inside the shop. He stood in front of the candy and rubbed his jaw, so many choices. And was he going to buy some for Sherlock? He hadn’t been looking to well when John left this morning. He finally grabbed some chocolate, because everyone loves chocolate, and some sour candy. He also grabbed a bag of crisps as well, for good measure, and then went to the check out.

In 221b the sun was shining in through the curtains, such a beautiful day John thought. He pulled the curtains away so the sun could fill the room with light and warmth. As he did this he heard a grunt on the other side of the room. John smiled and sat the bag down on his bed and went to sit on the edge of Sherlock’s bed. He looked ridiculous, curled up as a ball, blanket over his head. John lifted the blanket slightly and peeked under it.

“Hello sunshine. Feeling any better?”

Sherlock tugged the blanket from John’s hand and pulled it over his head again.

“John, I am dying.” He coughed “I am really dying.”

John looked down at the ball of Sherlock, a big smile spread over his lips and soon laughter was pouring out of his mouth.

Sherlock quickly pulled the blanket down and looked up at John, anger in his eyes.

“Excuse me, what is so funny?” he was wearing a too big, grey t-shirt and blue striped pyjama bottoms. His hair was in a total mess, slightly damp, John could see perspiration on his skin, probably from the fever. John brushed a curl away from his face, he didn’t realised he was doing it until his finger was on Sherlock’s cheek. The anger in Sherlock’s eyes had vanished and he was looking into John’s eyes with a gentle expression on his face. John quickly pulled it away and went to fetch the bag of goodies from his own bed.

“You’re not dying, Sherlock. Just a fever that’s all.”

The anger returned as quickly as it had vanished. “ _Just_ a fever?”

“Yes. That’s what happen when you stay out all night in pouring rain. Here, I bought you candy.”

It was like the “almost kiss” never had happen, none of them had mentioned it and everything was just as it had been before. Except for the fact that touching didn’t feel like crossing a line anymore. The small touches happened more often, fingers brushing against each other, hands on hands, hands on shoulders.

“Why? I don’t like stupid-“

John pressed a chocolate bar into Sherlock’s mouth. “Shut up and eat. And I know you like it. You never eat, but when you do you eat candy. So yes, you like it.”

Sherlock narrowed his eyes and tilted his head to the side. “Do you observe my behaviour in such great detail? I am impressed.”

John took a big bite of his candy bar and avoided Sherlock’s eyes. “Well, you know. We live in the same room and we see each other every day. Of course I pick up on little things you do. It’s just fair I think, you know everything about me.”

“I don’t know everything. There are thing I don’t know but would like to know.”

“Why don’t you just ask me then?”

Sherlock smiled. “Not the right moment yet.”

John laughed trough his nose and continued on his candy bar. He was really happy and it felt like nothing could ruin this evening. They sat on Sherlock’s bed and talked for hours, Sherlock told tales of pranks he had tried on Mycroft. John talked about his family and old memories. After some time John fetched his laptop and John was showing Sherlock his favourite funny videos on YouTube. Sherlock pretended he didn’t liked them, but John saw the smile on his lips and knew he was lying.

* * *

 Later that night, John sat at his desk and had just finished his homework for the day. He looked over his shoulder to see what Sherlock was doing. John smiled when he saw Sherlock, his legs rested against the wall and his back was on the bed, his head hung over the edge of the bed and his eyes were shut.

“You sleeping?”

Sherlock’s eyes opened and he looked at John, a big smile spread across his lips. “No. Thinking.”

“About what?”

“The next step in our plan of course. I have a thing planed, but I need to do some research first.”

John turned his chair so he was facing Sherlock completely, he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees.

“You can’t do anything with a fever you know. You’ll just get ever sicker.”

Sherlock did a flip and landed on the floor and turned to John.

“It does not matter, John. My body is just transport.”

“Isn’t a working ‘transport’ better than a broken one?”

Sherlock rubbed his chin and looked up at the ceiling for a few short seconds.

“True. But I will be well enough to do what I have to do by the time it comes up.”

John sighed and turned to his desk again. “If you say so.”

It was quiet for about a minute and then John glanced over his shoulder and found himself staring into Sherlock’s eyes. Their noses were almost touching and they started to blush, but neither of them moved.

“Why are you not asking what my plan is?” Sherlock asked.

“Do you want me to ask?”

“I would like that, yes.”

John turned to his desk again so his back was against Sherlock. He smiled, he liked it when Sherlock was like this, in need of attention, wanting John to be impressed. John never acted like he was impressed by Sherlock, he always was. How could he not be impressed? Sherlock was brilliant.

“What’s the plan then, Sherlock?”

Sherlock stood up straight and closed his hands behind his back and started to walk back and forth from, his own bed to John’s.

Sherlock took a deep breath, John smiled, he knew what was coming and he knew he was going to enjoy every second of it.

“Well it is like you said; what about the drugs? Where did they come from? We need to find the person who deals drugs around here and ask if he knew Ollie. We could go to the headmaster and ask if drugs have been a problem at the school before and if it has, who was the dealer. If that doesn’t give us anything….well I have another plan, but that is for another time.”

Everything planed it seems, John smiled, he liked it when Sherlock said _we_ and _us_. It was like they were a team, a pair, partners… John cleared his throat. “But what about that other plan, the reserve one?”

Sherlock fidgeted and avoided eye contact. “Well, I need to get the information I need, and sometimes it requires….” He cleared his throat. “…extreme measures.”

John stood up from his desk and stood in front of Sherlock. “What kind of extreme measures?” He already had an idea what the answer would be and he didn’t like it one bit.

“I might need to go undercover and interact with the drug users to get to the source. They need to trust me if they are going to tell me anything. I need to become one of them.”

John’s jaw tightened and he clenched his hands. “And what will that include? Drug use?”

Sherlock looked away and nodded slowly. John grabbed his t-shirt and dragged him closer. He wanted to hit Sherlock so badly, this wasn’t worth it! What if he used a dirty needle? Or took an overdose? He could die!

“You. You. You fucking idiot! Do you want to get yourself killed?”

“No, of course not!”

John let go of Sherlock’s t-shirt, he took a step back and rubbed his face.

“If we get the information we need from the headmaster you won’t do it, right?”

“Correct.”

“Good. We go to the headmaster first thing after school tomorrow then.”

Sherlock nodded and both of them went to bed that night without saying a word to each other. John had been wrong, the evening was destroyed and he was in a bad mood again. Fucking Sherlock.

 

* * *

 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about! We have never had a drug problem at this school!”

The headmaster, Mr Frank Hall, was an old, bald, and fat man who looked stressed and depressed. His bald round head was very red and shiny. He was sweating heavily and dried his forehead with a handkerchief every ten second. He had been calm when John and Sherlock had entered the room, but when they had started to ask questions about drugs on school grounds and drug dealers he went red and started to panic.

“It’s just that when my brother heard of Ollie’s death and that drugs was involved he started to question you as a headmaster. Drugs are not supposed to be on school grounds, and he paid you a big sum of money when I moved in here and therefore trust you to take care of his only brother. He was going to come here himself you know, but I stopped him and assured him that my headmaster has everything under control.” Sherlock took a deep breath and looked at the headmaster with big eyes. “So I said to my brother that if there ever had been a drug problem you would have fixed that by now. Or he would go to the police and report this you know.”

John stood quiet, in shock almost, was this the same Sherlock Holmes he shared a room with. The voice, posture and face was all different. John hadn’t even seen the transformation until he opened his mouth and started to talk to the headmaster. It was like magic, and John liked it.

“Never have there been a drug problem here at my school, and never will either. Tell your brother that. I-I-I have everything under control. N-n-nothing to worry about. Now, please leave me, I have…things to take care of. Out now!”

The headmaster waved his hand towards the door and he had almost screamed the last bit.

They walked out of the school building and towards the library. The entire way Sherlock was quiet and looked like he was in another part of the universe. It wasn’t until they had sat down in John’s corner he came back to reality and looked at John with eyes that sparkled like crystals.

“He knows something, John. He knows someone is selling drugs to his students but he can’t do anything about it.”

“And why is that?”

“He is being threatened. He panicked when I said Mycroft was going to the police.”

“Are you sure? It sounds a little, farfetched, if you ask me.”

Sherlock snorted. “Good thing I didn’t ask you then.”

John sighed and opened a book and pretended he was reading it. “I was going to tell you how amazing that thing you did in there was. But now I’m not going to say it.”

“You just-“

“Did you get the information you needed?” John was irritated and wanted to eat something and then sleep. He was sick of Sherlock’s bullshit.

Sherlock opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but he closed it before words got out. Two seconds later he opened it again and said. “Yes. Let’s go home.”

 

* * *

 

Next day when John woke up Sherlock wasn’t in 221b, John thought nothing of it, Sherlock was often up before John. John’s day moved slowly forward and nothing exciting happened. He ate lunch with Mike, he looked better and was talking more which made John happy and relieved. He got back to 221b late that night, he had gone to the library to study. He was still a little bit irritated from yesterday. Why did Sherlock act like an arse sometimes? John had thought their friendship was moving forward, or had the “almost kiss” ruined that? No, they were closer than before John was sure of that.

He got home and still no Sherlock in 221b. John thought it was a little bit weird, but him being gone when John went to bed wasn’t something new. John brushed his teeth and turned the tap in the shower, he took his clothes off and stepped inside. The hot water felt good against his skin, burning just right, not too much so it hurt. He closed his eyes, he saw Sherlock with messy and wet hair, breathing heavily, a smile on his lips. Oh, those lips, they looked so soft and warm. What would it feel like having those pressed against his own lips? His neck, his chest, his stomach, or…his pelvis… John opened his eyes, his face was right under the beam of water.

“Bloody hell.” He turned the tap and reached for a towel. He rubbed his face and looked into his own eyes in the mirror. “What are you thinking about, idiot.” He looked down at his crotch. “Fuck.” He looked into the mirror again. “Why are you getting hard thinking about Sherlock?!”

 John heard something buzzing. It was his phone ringing, he grabbed it and answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, John. How are you doing this beautiful night?”

It was Mycroft, John recognized that sarcastic voice at once. He wasn’t in the mood to play nice.

“What do you want?”

“Well I just wanted to know that I saw you and my dear little brother the other night. Breaking into police stations now are we?”

John could hear the evil smile in his voice and his anger level rose higher and higher.

“I know you like to spy on people with your little cameras. Maybe you should get your own life.”

“Oh, I’m not spying. Just looking after my baby brother. I also saw your little ‘moment’ in the park.” He laughed, it made John shiver with disgust. “So very romantic. I never thought my brother would get so close to anyone.”

John blushed, but he was more angry than ashamed and he wanted this phone call to end, now.

“What do you want!?”

“It’s just that I haven’t seen my dear brother all day. I thought you knew where he might be.”

“Well I don’t. I haven’t seen him all day either.”

It was quiet for five seconds before Mycroft answered, this time not so sarcastic but serious.

“Then I bid you good night and I will not take up more of your time. Good bye, John.”

John heard the click when Mycroft hung up. Something didn’t feel quite right, Mycroft didn’t know where Sherlock was and John hadn’t seen him in 24 hours now. John tapped the number to Sherlock’s mobile, no answer.

_Where are you? Your brother called me. He hasn’t seen you on his cameras all day._

He pressed send and sat down on the toilet. What was he up to now? He wouldn’t disappear like that and not saying anything. And he never disappeared for more than just a couple of hours. John closed his eyes and rubbed them, he tried to remember what they had said the last time they had talked.

_“Did you get the information you needed?”_

_“Yes. Let’s go home.”_

“He lied! That bastard lied!” John pulled his clothes on and looked at his phone, 11:24 pm. What was he going to do? Not panic, that was a good idea. He sat down on his bed and looked out through the window. The sky was clear and the moon was shining bright, it was the only source of light in the room. It wasn’t raining at least, John thought. Was he really out trying to become friends with drug addicts? John leaned his head against the wall. Of course he was. John took a deep breath, the air in 221b was cold, had the window been opened maybe? John didn’t know and right now he didn’t care, he was tired and angry. Even if he ran out now he wasn’t going to get much searching done. He decided he was going to wait until tomorrow, and if Sherlock hadn’t returned when he got back from school he was going to go look for him.

John went to bed and tried to fall asleep, but it didn’t happen. He was worried that Sherlock was being hurt or accidentally hurt himself. Maybe he was willing to go so far for information that he would deliberately hurt himself. John twisted and turned in his bed. When he didn’t saw images of Sherlock on the ground with a needle in his arm he saw the image he had seen in the shower. His lips. John sat up and ran his finger through his hair. He needed to understand his own feelings for Sherlock, he was so confused right now. He slammed his fist against the wall and cursed. John slept three hours that night, and when he finally had fallen asleep had his dreams been filled with images of Sherlock.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry...this one was so hard for me. My brain died ._.  
> So if it's kind of bad at some points I'm sorry...things are happening and my brain can't handle all the things xD  
> I wrote nothing and then everything at once xD not good...  
> I just want this to be as good as I can make it for you guys :) 
> 
> Hugs and kisses  
> \- MooshSmoosh


	9. Chapter Nine

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: There will be mentioning of rape in this chapter.

Why did time move so slowly today? Was it because John really wanted to get out of school and go look for Sherlock? Of course it was. John looked at the clock on the wall, three more hours until school was out. He tapped his fingers against the desk and looked out of the window, sun, no clouds today. He was thankful the rain had stayed away, it made him feel a little bit less worried about Sherlock. Just a little. He looked at the clock again. Just three minutes had passed. Damn!

“Excuse me Miss Heart. I’m not feeling very well. Can I go to the nurse?” John hunched his back and held a hand over his stomach. “I think I’m going to be sick.” He made a gag sound and covered his mouth with his hand.

“Ah! Out! Go! Try not to breathe on your classmates please.”

John grabbed his bag and books and ran out. That had gone smoother than he had thought, he smiled as he made his way back to 221b. It looks like he had picked up a few things this past weeks he had spent with Sherlock. Sherlock. John ran faster. He threw his bag on the floor and then ran out again. He stopped just outside of school grounds and looked around. London was a big place, where would he start? John closed his eyes and rubbed the back of his head and tried to think like Sherlock.

“I guess I need to find someone who knows where you can get drugs.” he said to himself as he opened his eyes again. “But where?”

John started to walk around dark alleys and looked in dark parking houses in the area around school. He started closest to school and then slowly and systematically made his way further away. It took many hours, he looked everywhere he thought drug dealing might be happening. After two hours he sat down on a bench and rubbed his eyes.

“You know, John, drug dealing might not happen in dark abandoned houses like in your fantasies or in the movies.” He leaned against the bench and clutched his hands, he was frustrated he couldn’t find Sherlock, and he wanted to strangle him when he finally did find him.

“Why you lookin’ for drugs boy? It’s bad for ya.”

“What?” John looked around and found an old man in dirty, torn clothes on the bench beside him. His face was wrinkled, he had a big grey beard, and he had friendly eyes.

“Is bad. More kids like you come here lookin’ for it. It isn’t like it was when I first came here you know. Makes me sad.” The man scratched his beard and then he held out his hand toward John. “The name is Cooper.”

“I’m John.”

“Nice to meet ya John.” He smiled and John could see his yellowish teeth through the beard. “But tell me. Why ya lookin’ for drugs?”

“It’s not the drugs I’m interested in really. My friend went missing and I think he is with other people who are doing drugs. I want to find him.”

“I see. I see. You’re a good one John.”

 “Thank you.”

“What does this friend of yours look like?”

“He is fifteen, tall, dark curly hair, grey- bluish eyes, and he’s quite pale.”

Cooper scratched his beard again as he was thinking. “I’m sorry my boy, haven’t seen anyone like that. But I do know where the kids usually hang out.”

John’s face lit up and he was filled with hope again. “Where?”

“A couple of blocks down that way.” He pointed with his hand down a road to the right. “There’s this old park. No one goes there anymore, except people like me who have nowhere to go. Kids hang around there sometimes, drug dealers like to send people there so they can sell. Nasty things. Have to wait until tonight, no one’s there during the day.”

“Thank you so much, Sir.”

“Oh, that’s nothing son.” He smiled and stood up. “Hope everything goes well for you.”

The man started to walk away from the bench and John. John followed him with his eyes until he turned a corner and disappeared. John looked around, what he was going to do until nightfall he wondered. For a couple of hours he wandered aimlessly, just observing people on the streets, over hearing peoples conversations. The sun was shining and there was just a few clouds on the sky, John looked up and faced the light from the sun, he felt the warmth on his face and for just a second everything felt alright. Then a car drove by and he came back to reality. Sherlock was still missing and John needed to find him. He saw a tiny café at the corner of a street and decided to go inside and sit there until it closed.

The barista was cute and liked to talk, at least it helped the time to pass quicker. Her name was Lexi, she had short brown hair, big earrings in her ears, and she was wearing make-up but not too much, which John liked because it made her look cuter and more natural. She smiled all the time, and she liked to flirt. John flirted as well, he couldn’t just say no to a girl like that, even if he wasn’t interested at all. He had someone else on his mind.

John sat and watched the world move outside the window. So many people, rushing, walking, driving. To where? John tried to do the thing Sherlock did, but he didn’t see anything when he looked at the man standing on the other side on the street. The only thing John saw was the paper in his hands and the fag between his fingers. He was wearing a suit and had shiny shoes, no wedding band. John had thought the man had to be married, he looked like he was around forty maybe, wasn’t that the time in life you were supposed to get married?

John took a sip of his coffee and looked down in his cup. What was Sherlock doing right now? Was he safe? John hoped so, he wanted to find him safe and sound, but that was probably not going to happen. If someone had hurt Sherlock, what would he do to that person if he found them? Kick them in the face? John smiled, Sherlock would just call him overdramatic. But if someone had hurt Sherlock they deserved a kick in the face.

“I’m sorry, but we are closing now.”

“Oh, time passes so fast when you’re enjoying yourself.” John smiled a tight smile, he didn’t even care if it looked fake or not.

Lexi giggled and her cheeks was blushing slightly. It must have looked real to her. “I guess you’re right. Please come back if you have some time over.”

John nodded and smiled. “Good bye.” He waved as he walked out through the door.

It was cold outside and John pulled up the collar of his jacket. Hope Sherlock has enough clothes at least, John thought. He made his way to the park the old man had spoken about and after half an hour he found it. It was dark and shadows was moving around in the dark. Darkness fell so quickly during the autumn, John used to like it, but not tonight. He looked around and saw two teenagers in his own age and approached them.

“Ehm…have you seen-“

“Probably not.” A girl answered snidely before John could even finish his sentence.

They looked just like ordinary teenagers to John, but what had he expected really? Not all addicts looked like they lived on a bench.

“Oh, ignore her. She’s just grumpy today. My name is Chris. And you?”

Chris stood up and was now standing very close to John, way into his personal space. Chris was studying John and he looked like he liked what he was seeing. He had long black hair in a ponytail, he was wearing black jeans, a leather jacket and a blue t-shirt. She had red hair which went down to here shoulders and was also wearing black jeans, they were torn on her knees, and she had a big black hoodie with a picture of the album cover of Metallica’s Master of Puppets album on the back of it.

“Here for a shag perhaps? I do hope so.” He stroked John’s cheek and smirked.

“A shag? No. No, not really.”

Chris looked disappointed and let his hand fall to his side before he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Then what are you doing here? You know, lots of gay guys come here. Private area. You can do whatever you like here and no one will ever know.”

“Great.” John cleared his throat “I’m looking for my friend. His name is Sherlock, tall, dark curly hair, crazy cheekbones, pale.”

Chris smiled and looked at his friend, she looked back and was also smiling. It was like they knew who John was talking about, and that they knew something.

“You know him?”

“Of course we know Sherly, he is a real cutie. He was here yesterday, haven’t seen him since then.”

“I saw him leaving with Seb.” The girl said. “It looked like Seb wanted something from him.”

Chris looked at her and frowned and bit his lower lip, he then turned to John with a pressed smile on his lips, still frowning.

“What? Who is Seb?” John didn’t like this, at all. What if Sherlock was in danger?

“His name is Sebastian, no one knows his last name . He is the one you contact if you need…stuff. He is here a couple of days every week. But he doesn’t sell to just anyone, you need to be on his good side.”

John swallowed and clenched his fists. “What happens if you’re on his bad side?”

Chris looked at his friend and she looked away as soon as their eyes met.

“Our friend, Robert, he got into a fight with Seb. Said he has selling him bad stuff and that he wanted to meet the guy who provides Seb with the stuff. Seb said there was nothing wrong with the stuff and that he wasn’t going to see the boss. But Robert kept going on about foul play. Seb shouted: ‘You wanna meet the boss. Then okay!’ He dragged Robert into his car and we haven’t seen him since.”

“This happened nine months ago.” The girl added. She whipped away a tear on her cheek and threw a stone at a nearby tree.

“And since Sherly left with him… I’m sorry mate.”

John felt the panic in his throat, he tried to swallow but he couldn’t. He needed to find Sherlock, now! “Tell me where you saw him last. Tell me where they went!”

The girl looked at him with emotionless eyes. “Seb wanted him. There will be nothing left if you find him. Seb don’t take random people with him. He take those who put up a fight, and those he want. Neither of them ever come back. And if they do, they are in very, very bad shape.”

“Tell me where they went!” he was almost screaming now, panic and rage all mixed together in his body.  

“Why would I help you? You’re ugly, shouting, and I don’t like you. You have to say please.”

“What?”

“Say please.”

“Please?”

The girl smiled and pointed at the other end of the park. “Over there. There is an old shed, Seb usually do his business in there. I hope you find Sherly.”

“Say hi to him form me.” Chris said as he went to sit down on the bench again. “And if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” He winked and laughed before he turned to the girl.

“Right…”

John made his way through the park, it was dark and John tried to stay away from the people he saw on the way. There was a group of old men around a fireplace, every one of them had a bottle in their hands and they were shouting at each other. He saw two boys standing against a tree, first John just thought they were having a snog, but when he looked closer he started to blush and looked at another direction.

 As he made his way to the shed he had come up with at least five different scenarios of what could be going on inside. Two was maybe realistic, the other three, maybe not as realistic.  Finally he saw the shed, it was very old, and it looked like it was going to collapse at any moment. There was a hole in the roof, the door was crooked and the paint had fallen of long ago. No one was around, it was like everyone was avoiding this part of the park. He walked up to the door and put his ear on it.

“You know what, I really like your company. Little Sherly. The other guys weren’t wrong about you.”

The voice came from a man, John estimated that he was maybe 20 years old. His voice was dark and when he spoke shivers went down John’s spine. It must be Sebastian he thought.

“I’m happy you’re satisfied.”

John’s heart stopped when he heard Sherlock’s voice. He was alive! But his voice was hoarse and he was coughing badly.

Sebastian laughed and John could hear whisper, but he couldn’t make out any of the words they were saying.

“So stay away you little whore!” Sebastian suddenly roared and John heard the sound of a fist against someone’s jaw and Sherlock’s groan. John’s pulse increased and he could feel the rage and hate rushing through his body. He wanted do run inside and _kill_ that Sebastian bloke.

“You’re pretty Sherlock. But not pretty enough for me not to kill you.”

Sherlock didn’t respond, John could hear his breathing through the door. He tried to move his body, but nothing happened. His bod was frozen but everything else around him was moving. He couldn’t open the door and help Sherlock. _You are worthless_. That sentence flew around in his head and it was the only thing he could hear. He stared at the door, eyes wide open. _Shut up!_ He yelled to himself inside his head.

“But then killing you would not be as funny as killing your little _friend_ when you’re watching. Oh, the boss would like that.” He laughed again, like he found the idea so funny.

“You are not touching him! He has nothing to do with this!”

There was panic in Sherlock’s voice. But as John heard him his body came back to him and he could move again. He looked around, he wanted to find a branch or something he could use as a weapon. His eyes fell on a big stone next to a bench just a couple of feet from the shed. John picked it up and slightly opened the door, trying very hard not to make any sound.

He peeked inside and saw the back of a tall, man with short blond hair, a white tank top and camouflage patterned trousers, on the floor John saw a leatherjacket. Inside the shed there was a working bench with random tools spread across it. On the floor sat Sherlock, pale, dark circles under his eyes, his hair was in a total mess. John could see the mark on his jaw from where Sebastian’s fist had landed, he also had a split lip.

Sebastian was focused on Sherlock and had not heard John as he entered the shed. Sherlock kept his eyes on Sebastian and tried to distract him so he wouldn’t notice John.  

“Oh, you don’t want me to hurt your little boyfriend, but you don’t protest when I hurt you.” He laughed trough his nose and moved closer to Sherlock and grabbed his jaw with his thumb and index finger. He lifted Sherlock’s face closer to his own and whispered. “You’re a sick little boy.” He paused and bit Sherlock’s ear. “I’m going to fuc-“

John slammed the stone in the back of Sebastian’s head as hard as he could. Sherlock jumped out of his way and Sebastian fell forward and hit his head on the working bench, he then hit the floor and didn’t move.

“Did… Did I kill him?” John was still standing with the stone in his hands and was looking at Sebastian on the floor. He bled from the wound in the back his head.

Sherlock crouched and put two fingers on his wrist. “No. He is alive, just unconscious. He is probably going to be out of it for several hours. Let’s not be here when that happens.”

John threw the stone on the floor and rubbed his hands against his jacket. He then looked at Sherlock. “Right.”

Sherlock grabbed his grey hoddie on the floor and pulled it on. “Thanks. For…” he pointed at Sebastian on the floor.

“That’s, nothing. Come on, let’s go.”

Sherlock was limping so they slowly made their way through the park and into the city again. After half an hour they had put some distance between themselves and the park and John felt safe again. He grabbed Sherlock’s arm and dragged into an empty alley. John and Sherlock looked at each other and said nothing for several seconds, Sherlock looked confused, but he didn’t say anything.

John frowned as he saw what Sherlock was wearing, He wasn’t wearing his ordinary “Sherlock clothes”,he was wearing grey trackies, a white t-shirt and a grey hoddie. He didn’t look like himself, and the bruises on his jaw made John’s stomach hurt. He needed to touch him. He took two steps towards Sherlock and closed his arms around him. John felt Sherlock’s arms around him as well and they stood in silence, just embracing each other. When John released him from the embrace he grabbed Sherlock’s face with both his hands and rested his forehead against Sherlock’s.

“You scared me to death.”

Sherlock swallowed and gently grabbed John’s arms. “I am sorry. John, please forgive me.” He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose.

 “Sherlock, you idiot.” John ran his finger through Sherlock’s hair, it was damp from sweat. John looked at Sherlock’s face, so pale in his hands, but so beautiful. John had been trying to block all feelings toward Sherlock these past few days, but why? He didn’t even know the answer to that. He followed Sherlock’s bottom lips with his thumb, so perfect lips. Sherlock opened his eyes and looked into John’s.

Sherlock grabbed John’s hand and pressed it against his lips. Just as his lips touched his hand it felt like a bolt went from his hand and through his body. A shiver went down his spine and he closed his eyes.

“Sorry. Just friends.” His voice was weak and it came out like a whisper, he let go of John’s hand and clenched his fist.

“I don’t care anymore, Sherlock.” John leaned in closer and gently pressed his lips against Sherlock’s. He heard how Sherlock inhaled through his nose and for a second his body felt tense. But then he slightly parted his lips and kissed back. John felt a hand in his hair that grabbed a hand full of hair and pulled him even closer, John opened his mouth more and allowed Sherlock’s tongue slide inside. Everything was perfect, Sherlock in his arms, Sherlock’s hand in his hair, and Sherlock’s tongue in his mouth. John wasn’t confused anymore. This felt so right and perfect and he never wanted to kiss another person ever again.

Sherlock suddenly pulled away and turned his head away from John, he started to cough badly and John realised that standing outside in the cold night having a snog might not be that best idea since Sherlock was still sick.

“Let’s go home.” John grabbed Sherlock’s hand and they continued to make their way back to 221b. John thought it might be best if they got a cab, Sherlock was limping pretty badly and it was a long way back to the dorm. When John finally got the hold of one Sherlock’s was limp against his side. John helped Sherlock into the cab and then threw his jacket around Sherlock and put his arm around him. He nuzzled the top of Sherlock’s head and closed his eyes, he still smelled like Sherlock under the dirt and sweat. John pressed a kiss on his forehead and ignored the odd looks the cabdriver gave them. John didn’t care what anyone else thought. He knew now what his feelings for Sherlock was, and he was almost sure Sherlock felt the same, but he was never quite sure about what went on inside Sherlock’s head.

When they got back to the dorm John had to almost carry Sherlock up the stairs. When they finally got into 221b Sherlock slightly opened his eyes again.

“Where are we?”

“Home, in 221b.” John replied as he helped Sherlock to his bed. “You were kind of out of it there for a while.” John pulled of the dirty hoddie Sherlock was wearing. He was now in a t-shirt and John could see the marks from needles on his arms. He tried to avoid them with his gaze and looked at Sherlock’s face instead.

“How did you find me?” Sherlock asked as he sat down on his bed and pulled his blanket around him.

“Well.” John said as he scratched the back of his head. “I have seen how you do things and with a little bit of luck I finally found you.” John smiled and looked at Sherlock. Sherlock was looking at him intensively and then he threw his arms around John and nuzzled his face into the curve of his neck.

“You are amazing, John Watson.”

John felt the heat rising in his cheeks and he was happy Sherlock couldn’t see it.

“Maybe your amazingness has rubbed off.” He laughed a nervous laugh and let a finger glide down Sherlock’s spine. Sherlock sat up straight and looked at John, he had a serious look on his face and John was afraid he had done something wrong.

“No.” His voice and face was hard, but then he stroked John’s cheek. John leaned into the touch and smiled as he saw Sherlock’s face soften. “You were always amazing.” Sherlock leaned in and kissed John softly. “Sleep here tonight.” He whispered against John’s lips. John kissed him back and grabbed the back of Sherlock’s neck and pushed him closer.

“As you wish, but only if you take a shower first.” John smiled and kissed him again.

Sherlock smiled and limped towards the bathroom. As he reached the door the turned around. “If you had said no I would have snuck down in your bed you know.”

“I know.”

 

* * *

 

“What happened?” John asked as he smelled Sherlock now clean hair, they were both lying in Sherlock’s bed.

“I found the information I needed.”

“Sherlock.”

Sherlock sighed and sat up and leaned against the wall. “I knew some of the kids who were using drugs, and I thought they might now something about Ollie. So I contacted them and said Ollie had been in contact with Moran.” Sherlock paused and looked out of the window on the other side of the room. “The man you met before goes by the name Sebastian Moran. I have met him before, back when I...” he paused again and ran his fingers over the needle marks on his arm. “Back when I was using. More regularly. At first I just bought from him, with money. But then Mycroft realised what was going on and he took away all the money I had and refused to give me more until I stopped.” Sherlock looked down at his hands and was quiet for a while before he continued. “Moran told me there was other ways I could pay him. I asked how, and he showed me. That was the first time he…”

John sat up and stroked Sherlock’s cheek. “You don’t have to say it.”

Sherlock nodded and looked down at his hands again. “I haven’t been to that park for almost two years now, but I knew I needed to contact some old _‘friends’_ to get the information I needed. Moran is the one you contact if you need drugs, but he isn’t the boss of the entire operation. There was a guy, he told me Moran is the one who does all the dirty work. And that he also does other 'things' too. I asked around if anyone knew Ollie.”

“And I guess you found someone?”

“Of course I did.” Sherlock smiled and John couldn’t help but to smile back at him. “Ollie was selling drugs as well. He had contacted Moran and said he needed money, Moran then put him in contact with his boss and Ollie became an employee. Everything was going smoothly until Ollie had started to question his employer. Some kids overheard Ollie and Moran in the park and Ollie said he knew about the ‘stuff’ Moran was doing. No one saw him after that.”

“Wow…this is…sick.”

“It is quite obvious what happened, but I needed to be sure. That is why I contacted Moran again. I said I needed some poison. If he could provide me with it, he could get some and use it on Ollie as well.”

“Didn’t he ask why?”

“I said I needed it for an experiment. He laughed and asked what kind of experiments I would do. But then he said _‘Giving a fifteen-year-old some poison might create an interesting situation.’_ I said I had money for it, but he didn’t want it. He said he liked our old agreement better. He pushed me against the wall and…well I think you can figure out what happened next.” Sherlock paused and took two deep breaths. “During…the act…he said he knew I didn’t want the poison. He knew I was suspecting him for Ollie’s murder. I tried to get him of me, but I had been without food and water for a long time and I, had drugs in my blood. _‘We know what you’re trying to do. But no one is going to listen to you, you little shit. And if you succeed I’ll have to kill you. So much work. You’re worthless and no one cares about you. A waste of time really. So stay away you little whore.’_ He hit me and then you must have heard the rest.”

John clenched his wrist and bit his bottom lip. He didn’t want to think about what Sebastian might have done to him. John closed his eyes and saw images of Sherlock, pressed against the wall in the shed, Moran’s lips and hands all over him. He felt Sherlock’s hand on his shoulder and opened his eyes again.

“It’s okay, John.” His voice was soothing, but it didn’t work.

“No it’s not! It’s fucking wrong!”

“It is. But we can’t do anything about it now. I’m here with you and that’s all that matters to me right now. I was weak and stupid back when I needed Moran and his drugs. I am in control now and I am not going to hurt myself again like I did back then.”

John embraced Sherlock and held him tightly in his arms. “It’s disgusting. His hands and lips on your body.” John kissed him, rough. First his mouth, than his jaw where the bruise Moran left was, his neck. John put his arms around Sherlock and laid him down on the bed and straddled him. He pulled Sherlock’s t-shirt of and kissed his chest.

“John.” Sherlock’s breathing was heavy, his eyes dark with arousal and his hands were in John’s hair and they dragged him toward Sherlock’s mouth.  

“I want to remove him from your body.” John said against Sherlock’s mouth.

Sherlock sucked at John’s bottom lip and kissed him again. “Do it.”  

John planted kisses all the way down to the edge of his pants. He pulled them down and helped Sherlock of with them. Grabbed Sherlock’s cock and slowly licked the underside of the shaft. A moan escaped Sherlock’s mouth and John looked up and saw his head thrown back against the pillows and his eyes were shut. John pulled back the foreskin and lightly sucked and licked. John enjoyed all the sounds that came out of Sherlock’s mouth, and the expression on his face, he was perfect.  John licked and kissed to see what kind of reaction he could get from Sherlock. He stroked gently with his hand and wrapped his lips around the head and sucked.

“Oh, God. John.”

John removed his hand and let his head sink down as far as he could before his gag reflexes kicked in. He looked up at Sherlock again, his mouth was open and he was looking down at John.

“John, I am. I am.”

A groan escaped his lips and John went down all the way one more time before he removed his lips and looked at Sherlock’s face as he came.

“You’re beautiful.” John said as climbed up and kissed Sherlock’s lips. Sherlock didn’t respond, he was just breathing and he had his eyes closed. John smiled and went to the bathroom to get a towel for Sherlock. When he came back Sherlock’s eyes were open and a smile was on his lips.

“You are amazing and perfect, John.”  

John threw the towel in Sherlock’s face and laughed. “Stop it or you’ll make me blush.”

Sherlock whipped his stomach with the towel and John climbed down next to him. Sherlock placed his head on John’s chest and closed his eyes. “I will thank you properly, I promise. But I am so tired.”

John kissed the top of his head and rested his chin against it.

“Sleep.”

Sherlock turned and faced John, he looked right into his eyes and looked scared and serious.

“I, I think I love you.”

John blinked, then he smiled and stroked Sherlock’s cheek. He was so human right in his moment. To the rest of the world he never shows who he really is. He has a wall around him which protects him from things that could hurt him. But now, he was naked and true. John softly kissed him and against his lips he said.

“I love you too.”

 

* * *

 

They fell asleep in each other’s arms and neither of them had slept that well for a very long time. John had his arms tightly wrapped around Sherlock, as if he was going to sneak out in the night and leave him worried again. Sherlock rested his head on John’s chest and had one arms over his stomach. Sherlock had never in his life felt the need to be as close to anyone as possible, but now that he felt that need, it felt like he had always needed the closeness.

When John woke up next morning he felt the warmth from the sun that was shining through the window. And also to the warmth that a feverish Sherlock generated, he was like an oven. John smiled when he saw Sherlock, still sleeping on his chest. He kissed the top of his head and looked out through the window. This was going to be a beautiful day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello.  
> I just wanted to say sorry if the rape thing made anyone run away.  
> I don't plan my chapters in great detail, I improvise as I write. That's why there have been no rape-tag before this chapter.  
> Please don't leave me!  
> I love all of you who have followed this fic this far. 
> 
> Hugs and Kisses  
> MooshSmoosh


	10. Chapter Ten

John felt lips on the scar on his shoulder, and a hand on his stomach. He turned the tap in the shower and water started to stream down their bodies. John grabbed Sherlock’s hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I have never seen your scar this close before.” Sherlock said as he ran his fingers over it.

“It’s not something that I want to show people. It’s ugly.”

“I think it’s fascinating.” Sherlock kissed it again and then let his tongue circle it.

John let out a surprised breath and leaned down and sucked on Sherlock’s neck, he intended to leave a mark, a mark that showed everyone Sherlock was his. Sherlock’s lips on his body, it felt so good, so much better than he had thought. He wanted to stay here in 221b with Sherlock forever and never leave. The outside world was boring, grey, cold, and complicated, John didn’t like any of those words. He wondered what words could describe their world here in 221b. Perfect, warm, loving, exciting. That was all the words he could think of right in this moment. He would come up with more, but it was hard to think straight with Sherlock’s lips and hands on his body.

A hand slid down his stomach and John soon felt fingers around his cock. Sherlock started to move his hand slowly and sucked on John’s earlobe.

“I promised I was going to thank you properly.” He kissed John’s neck and the strokes increased speed.

John grabbed the small of Sherlock’s back with one hand and the other one grabbed his hair. His breathing heavy and he bit Sherlock’s shoulder. He wanted to last as long as he could, the feeling of Sherlock’s hand, his lips, his body pressed against his own, John closed his eyes and curled his toes.

“Sherlock.”

“Open your eyes. I want you to look at me.”

John opened his eyes and their eyes met. Water was rolling down Sherlock’s hair and face, his cheeks were blushed and his mouth partly open. The speed of the strokes increased again and John felt the wave of the climax through his body.

“Oh my God.” He rested his cheek against Sherlock’s shoulder and tried to catch his breath. He heard something that sounded like a giggle and he looked at Sherlock and raised one of his eyebrows. Sherlock stopped and looked confused at John.

“What?”

“Did you just giggle?”

Sherlock just blinked and looked like he didn’t know what to say.

“The great Detective, Sherlock Holmes, beats all the criminals, solves all the crimes. _And_ gigglesafter he makes his boyfriend come in his hand.”

Sherlock pushed John’s shoulder and looked down. John ruffled his hair and smiled, John had discovered so many new things about Sherlock in, not even 24 hours, and he liked every single one. Sherlock didn’t let just anyone close to him, and being allowed to see all of him felt like a big honour.

“You better stay in bed today.” John said as he grabbed a towel and started to dry his hair. He looked at Sherlock and put a wrist to his forehead. He was warm, still a little fever. John was surprised he hadn’t collapsed already, maybe he was still on an adrenalin high after yesterday night.

Sherlock frowned and showed John’s hand away and pulled his pants on. “I’m fine. Just fine.”

“No you’re not. You still got a fever. Stay in bed for a couple of days or you’ll never get well again.”

“Fine.” Sherlock threw his towel on the floor and stormed off to his bed and dove under the covers. John smiled, there was so many sides to Sherlock, so many different moods. John dressed and walked over to Sherlock and climbed up on top of him.

“Excuse me! You are crushing me!” Sherlock tried to sound serious but when his face appeared from the sheets he was smiling.

John straddled him and pinned his hands down in the bed. He leaned down and planted a kiss in his forehead. “I’ll be back soon. Promise.”

Sherlock kissed his lips. “I will hold you to that. John Watson.” He kissed John again before John let go of his hands and jumped down to the floor.

He grabbed his jacket and bag and kneeled down to tie his shoes. “I guess you have a brilliant next step in our plan. You have to tell me when I get home later. I can bring-“As John turned to Sherlock again he saw Sherlock curled up as a boll under the blanket, he was sleeping. John smiled and walked out of 221b and closed the door as quietly as he could. He leaned against the door and sighed. He really wanted to stay in bed with Sherlock all day, school was boring and felt like a waste of time.

He suddenly felt a buzz in his pocket. A text. John smiled, he was hoping it was from Sherlock. He unlocked his phone and he felt a stab of disappointment. It was Mike, he was wondering if John was coming to school today or not.

_Meet you at physics later._

He typed the answer as he made his way down the stairs. As he opened the door and stepped outside. He looked up at the sky as he walked down the street, suddenly a man ran straight into him and he nearly fell over. The man looked confused and panicked and when he realised he had just ran into someone he panicked even more.

“I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know where I am and I’m so late for a meeting so I was running and I didn’t see you. Sorry!”

The man was sweating and he put his hand on John’s arm where he had bumped into him. He was wearing a blue cap, blue jeans and a beige jacket with a Hawaii-shirt under it. He looked like a mess and John felt sorry for him.

“It’s okay. I’m fine.” John smiled and tried to sound as calm as he could. “Where is your meeting at?”

“There is this school around here. I’m supposed to meet be at an interview there in…” he looked at his wristwatch and made a panicked sound. “Four minutes!” His voice went up and it sounded like he was in puberty again.

“Calm down. I attend a school which is that way.” He pointed towards the school. “If we run you can make it.”

They ran as fast as they could and made it to school just in time. The man was so thankful he was almost jumping and he was shaking John’s hand over and over again. “Thank you so much! But wait. I don’t even know your name.”

“John Watson.”

“Oh, thank you John! You saved my day. I’m Adam by the way. Sorry, I need to run now.”

“It’s okay. Go. And good luck.”

James waved as he ran away, he kept looking back at John and this made him trip and fall in the stairs. John rubbed the back of his head and bit his lip, he didn’t think he had every met someone as clumsy as he. He shook his head and made his way through the corridors at school and finally made it to physics class. Mike was already there and he waved as John entered the room.

“Where did you go yesterday? Are you feeling fine? You looked really sick when you left.”

Mike looked really worried and was staring intensively at John. He was a true friend, John thought, you have to look really hard for a better friend. John smiled and ruffled Mike’s hair and stole his glasses.

“Mike, mate, I love you.” John laughed and tried to dodge Mike’s had as he tried to retrieve his glasses.

“Don’t go all gay on me now.”

“Why not!”

“Sorry mate. You know Lydia, form French class, we are so almost dating.” He was smiling, and talking very fast, as you do when you get excited and want to tell your friend about it.

“What? You mean it’s too late? Damn! You just broke my heart.” John held his hand to his chest where his heart was and tried to look like he was hurt.

There was a glow over Mike, he didn’t look as depressed as he had done a couple of days ago. John was happy he was seeing a girl, maybe she would get him on other thoughts.

 

* * *

 

“Could you help me with the math homework?” John asked as they walked through the corridors in school. “You know I suck at it and since I happen to have a friend who is a genius, I’m going to use you.”

Mike laughed and put his books down into his bag. “Sure. I’m not doing anything anyway.”

“Great! Can you come over to my place? I have all my things there.”

“Are you sure I can come? I mean. Is it okay with your roommate?”

John frowned and shook his head. Why would that be a problem? They weren’t married, barely boyfriends. And Sherlock wasn’t going to decide if John could have friends over or not.

“Of course! Just ignore him.” _As much as you can._ John added in his mind. He could be really annoying sometimes.

When they entered 221b John automatically looked over to Sherlock’s side of the room to see what he was doing. But he wasn’t there. John felt a stab in his stomach. Why did he do this? He was sick and needed to rest. Not go out, look for trouble and try to get killed.

“Sherlock?” John looked around again, no Sherlock. He walked over to his bed and felt the mattress. Still warm, if he had left their room they would have met him in the stairs.

“Maybe he is at school.” Mike said as he sat down at John’s desk. He gave a look that looked confused, why would John panic over the absent of his roommate?

“No he was home sick today.”

John heard the bathroom door open, Sherlock walked out and looked at John. His hair was a mess and John could see that he had just woke up. John took a deep breath and was just about to yell at him for scaring him, again. But he stopped before the words escaped his mouth.

“Hello Sherlo-“ It sounded like Mike chocked on his tongue. John tried very hard not to choke on his own.

Sherlock looked at Mike and rolled his eyes and turned to John. “What is _he_ doing here?”

“Sherlock. You’re…” John swallowed and tried to remember how you used words.

“What?”

John walked up to him, grabbed his arm and dragged him into the bathroom, he slammed the door behind them and looked at Sherlock.

“What the hell are you thinking?!”

“What?!”

“Sherlock. You’re naked! You walked out naked in front of Mike!”

“I think he has seen other naked boys before. Don’t you all change in the same changing room after gym class? Very weird if you ask me.”

“That’s different!”

Sherlock crossed his arms over his chest and narrowed his eyes. “Well. I live here and if I want to walk around with no clothes on I can. And why is he here? Why did you bring him home?”

“He is my friend Sherlock and he is helping me with my homework.”

“I can help you with your homework. I am better than he is.”

John sighed. He pinched the bridge of his nose and tried to calm himself down. Yelling never worked, and it would absolutely not work on Sherlock.

“Just. Don’t-“

“I see it as an insult that you ask him first.”

“Bloody hell, Sherlock. Stop being such a di-“ John sighed again. “Put something on. Please.”

He left Sherlock in the bathroom and went to sit on his bed next to Mike who was acting like he hadn’t heard their conversation, but John knew he had.

“Sorry.”

“No problem, mate.” He smiled and patted John on the shoulder. “I knew he can be an arse. He has already shown that side of his personality.” His hand was still on Johns shoulder as Sherlock walked out of the bathroom. He was wearing one of John’s t-shirts and his red pants. He stopped, gave Mike a look of hate. He didn’t move until he removed his hand.

“Hey! That’s my pants.”

Sherlock dove under his blanket, his body was completely covered and John could see that he was moving under it. John turned around and opened his book and turned to the page he needed for his homework.

“It just this part here I don’t under-“  Something hit the back of John head. He grabbed it and when he realised what it was he started to blush. It was John’s red pants. John turned to Sherlock and saw his face peek up from under the sheets and blankets. He was smiling and soon John’s t-shirt came flying too.

Mike turned to see what was going on and Sherlock dove under the sheets again. John threw the clothes on Sherlock and looked at Mike.

“I’m sorry. He is a dick, as you can see.”

“It’s okay.” He smiled and grabbed his notebook. “You see, you need to do it like this.” He started to write something in his notebook.

They sat like that for almost three hours straight, they went through physics, chemistry and some math. All the boring and horrible subjects, all at once. And it didn’t help that Sherlock interrupted them every other minute and insulted poor Mike. John thought Mike was going to snap once or twice, but he kept his cool.

“How do you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Resist the temptation to strangle him.”

Mike smiled and packed his things into his bag. He went to grab his jacket and pulled it on. John smiled as well, Mike looked so much happier since he had last seen him. He hated it when his friends were sad and down, mostly because John didn’t know how to help them.

“Thanks, Mike. See you tomorrow then.”

“Sure thing, mate. Good bye, Sherlock.”

John closed the door behind Mike and leaned his forehead against the door. “Sherlock. Why did you behave like a-“ he was caught off by Sherlock’s mouth.

“Sherlock?”

“He is boring.”

“And you’re mean.”

Sherlock turned the lights of so the room was filed with darkness. The only light came from the moon which was shining in through the window. He grabbed John’s hand and led him to the bed. He pushed John down and straddled him.

“I don’t like it when he touches you.” Sherlock’s eyes were narrowed and his hands pushed John’s chest down into the mattress.

“He is my friend, Sherlock. And he’s got a girlfriend. _And_ he isn’t gay.”

“Are…you?”

John had never had sex with another guy before, just girls. Sure he had met a couple of guys that he really thought were good looking. And sometimes at parties when everyone got drunk he had made out with one or two guys. He had always thought he was an “ordinary” straight guy. It wasn’t like he had turned gay for Sherlock, but he was pretty sure he wasn’t straight anymore. He liked girls, their round soft bodies with curves and the way they smelled. But He also liked the hard sharp body of a guy, like Sherlock’s body. He looked at Sherlock, he looked a little bit nervous, as if John suddenly had changed his mind and didn’t like him anymore.

“Kind of, I guess.”

Sherlock frowned and didn’t look satisfied with John’s answer. “I know I like girls, and I know I like you. You are the first guy I have ever had sex with, before you there was only girls. I had kissed a few blokes, but that wasn’t ever serious.”

Sherlock’s face soften and he let his hands fall of John’s chest. The moon light fell on his face and John felt the need to touch his face. He traced Sherlock’s cheekbones, Sherlock leaned against his hand and took John’s other hand and kissed it. 

“What about you?” John ran his fingers through Sherlock’s hair and kissed his nose and Sherlock laid down and rested his head on John’s chest.

“I kissed a girl when I was six and I realised I didn’t like it. Then I didn’t look at either girls or boys until I was eleven.”

“What happened when you were eleven?”

“A new boy arrived at our school and he was to join my class. I saw that he wasn’t like the other rich, spoiled kids in my class and therefore took an interest in him. Very secretly of course.” He ran his finger up and down John’s arm. “He approached me. His name was Victor. I pretended to be utterly uninterested, but he saw through me and to my surprise, I enjoyed his company. One day I went home with him. We did our homework and he showed his father’s library. We spent hours on the floor just talking and looking through books.” Sherlock stopped and took John’s hand in his and entwined their fingers. “Then he suddenly kissed me. Not tongues and that, just a peck on the lips. I know you can’t know what sexual orientation you have when you are eleven. But I have never been drawn to girls, or boys, just Victor. And You.” He turned to look at John and John kissed his in response.

John sat up an pulled his t-shirt over his head and un buttoned his jeans, Sherlock helped him out of his trousers and John then threw the blanket over them and embraced Sherlock. John kissed Sherlock’s lips and then rested his head against the top of Sherlock’s.

“I love you, Sherlock.”  

 

* * *

 

John stretched in his chair, he had been going his homework and was finally done for the day. Sherlock had stayed home today too, but only because John forced him. John yawned and ran his finger through his hair.

“I need to stretch my legs. I could by some take away sushi if you want some.”

Sherlock had his legs up and the wall and back against the bed, he was reading a big thick book, John was pretty sure it was in Latin or something. He looked at John and nodded his head and then returned to his book.

“Kay then.” John grabbed his wallet and jacket and made his way down the stairs. He opened the door and realised that it was raining, he grabbed an umbrella in the stand inside the door went out.

He walked slowly and listened to the rain against the umbrella and watched as the water flowed down the streets. He took a deep breath and inhaled the cool fresh air and closed his eyes. He loved the autumn.

“Wait a second. You’re John, right.”

The voice came from behind him and when he turned he saw a man in a cap. It felt like he had met this man before, but John couldn’t remember from where. He then saw the Hawaii shirt under the jacket and he remembered. It was the man he help to school the other day, Adam.

“Oh, hello. I didn’t recognize you at first.”

“It’s fine. Thank you for the help by the way. Got just in time.”

John smiled and tried not to make it look too fake, he really wanted to go and get the sushi and head back home.

“I’m on my way to get some sushi so-“

“Oh, sushi! I love sushi! I know a great place just around the corner. You should try it.” Adam started to almost jump up and down with excitement and John didn’t have the heart to just turn him down. Trying a new sushi place might not be so bad.

“Sure…yeah. Lead the way.” He made a gesture with his hand and they started to walk down the street. John put his hand in his jacked and squeezed his phone. Sherlock would probably hate this sushi and then he would be in a bad moon for the rest of the day.

“I can’t thank you enough. You really saved my day you know.” He grabbed John’s shoulder and shook it as he smiled a big smile. John didn’t understand why he was so thankful, the only thing he had done was show him the way to the school.

“It was nothing, really.”

“It was! I was applying for a job at the school, caretaker, something had apparently happened to the last one. And I really needed the money you know, so it was important I got there in time. My mum threw me out so I’m staying at a friend’s place and I need money to pay rent so, it was important.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out a packet of gum and put one in his mouth. He pulled another one out and offered it to John.

“Want one? It’s mint.”

“Yeah, thanks.”

“Alright. Enough about me.” He paused and looked at John. He didn’t realise he was looking until he looked at Adam to see why he was so quiet all the sudden.

“Oh, well. I go to school. Study, trying to get good grades. I don’t have a very interesting life, nothing happens.”

Adam bumped into his side and laughed. “Oh, you must be lying. Don’t you like, party and see girls and things like that?”

“Ah, well. That stuff have never been my thing really. I prefer to stay home, watch a movie maybe.” He couldn’t tell about the resent events in his life of course. Breaking into police stations, get involved in a murder and hit a guy in the back of the head with a stone. He wouldn’t even tell Mike about that. John looked back on his life before Sherlock and compered it to his life now. God, Sherlock was a bad influence.

“No lady in your life?” He grinned and pushed John’s shoulder. “Come on! Handsome lad like you. There has to be someone.”

What was he going to say? _Well, I’m kind of in a relationship with my roommate, he is a bloke by the way._ No. He wasn’t even sure what he and Sherlock was yet. It was still so new.

“Aha ha…no…not really.” John rubbed the back of his head and tried to smile but it probably looked fake.

“That’s a shame. You know, there was this one time, I was at this party and a girl came up to me and…”

John could hear Adam speak but he didn’t listen to his words, he had tuned him out. He was trying to figure his life out, everything had moved so fast. His life had been, well, dead before Sherlock moved in. Then Ollie died and the world just turned upside down. Was this even real or was he sleeping and soon he would wake up to his ordinary, boring, life again. John closed his eyes, pinched the bridge of his nose, and exhaled.

“…and this guy was all over the place! He even jumped of the roof into some bins! Ha ha! It was crazy. And then I was like…”

He even talked in a higher speed than Sherlock did when he made a deduction about someone. John nodded and tried to keep up, but after just five minutes his brain started to hurt. He just wanted to get sushi and go home, that’s all.

“…and he just drove off on a motorcycle with the girl on the back. Oh, it was crazy.”

He started to laugh hysterically and John smiled and nodded, not quite sure what he had been talking about. John looked around and realised they were nowhere near a sushi restaurant. They were in a deserted area with apartment buildings where the curtains where drawn so no one could peek inside.

“I’m sorry, but where is this sushi place?” John had a feeling something wasn’t right about this whole situation. He tried to keep his calm and not show that he was freaking out on the inside.

Adam ignored his question and changed the topic of the conversation. “Isn’t it annoying when someone is trying to fuck up your plans? I mean, you have spent months, maybe ever years on this plan and then someone comes and _fuck_ it up.” He laughed a laugh that clearly was fake and forced. “And it’s even more _annoying_ if the once destroying your plans are two little pricks.” 

 John stopped, he felt a shiver down his spine and it felt like someone was watching him. He looked around and no one was there. Adam had stopped talking and was now looking at John, he had a smirk on his lips and he tilted his head to the side. He looked, evil. Not at all like the man he had helped yesterday. Was it even the same man?

“What’s going on? What are you talking about?” John looked around again, it still felt like someone was watching him from behind.

Adam joined his hands behind his back and started to walk in circles around John. He looked up from under his cap and grinned.

“My dear John. It seems you and your little boyfriend have been snooping. Tsk, tsk, tsk, not good, not good at all. I thought you were a good boy.” He laughed and stopped, just inches from John’s face. “I was _clearly_ wrong about you.” He pressed his finger against John’s nose and John took a step back, but he was stopped by someone. Someone grabbed his arms, hard, and kept him in place. John looked over his shoulder and when he saw who it was his heart stopped.

“Hello, Jonny boy. We didn’t get a chance to get acquainted last time.” He paused and his face turned to stone. “Since you smashed a stone into the back of my head.” His grip around John’s arms tighten even more.

“Bad boy. No one is allowed to hit my Seb except from me.” Adam laughed and threw his cap away, his hair was black and when John looked into his eyes he thought they looked black as well.

“You know, I really don’t like it when _kids_ like you and your boyfriend interrupts my plans.” He had raised his voice and his expression had changed from smiles and laughs to stone cold seriousness.

John felt the panic in his throat, he tried to move but Sebastian stopped him. Was he going to die here? He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing. He could feel Sebastian’s breath on his neck as he leaned closer so he could whisper in his ear.

“Oh, don’t you even try, Johnny boy. I can break you in half if I want. Do. Not. Tempt. Me.”

“Oh Sebby I love it when you get all violent and threatening.” He stroked Sebastian’s cheek and the looked down on John with a hateful expression. “No one touches my things, little boy.”

 He took a few steps away from John and Sebastian and then did a pirouette and threw his arms in the air. He then joined his hands behind his back and stood straight.

“I’m sorry. I might have lied about my name the other day.” He giggled and walked towards John again, he stopped in front of him and bowed low. When he came back up he looked John in the eyes and smiled so John could see his snow white teeth.

“My name is Jim Moriarty.”    

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter might be late. Life and school is happening and I really want the next few chapters to be perfect. So you might have to wait a little longer, but I will make your wait worth it. I promise :P 
> 
> Hugs and Kisses   
> MooshSmoosh


	11. Chapter Eleven

“Oh, little John don’t look so frightened. I’m not going to kill you. Yet.” He smiled and looked at Sebastian who was standing behind John. “And who knows. Maybe you’ll change my mind.”

He put his hands in his pockets and walks around in an eight in front of them. It looked like he was thinking. Thinking of what? What way would be the most entertaining way to kill John? John closed his eyes and tried to take deep breaths, his eyes flew open again when he heard his phone beep. A text!

“Oh, what have we got here then?” Moriarty reached into John’s pocked and pulled out his phone. John felt his fingers through the fabric of his jeans, it mad shivers go down his spine.

Moriarty unlocked John’s phone and laughed. “It’s your little boyfriend.” He laughed again. “Where are you John? What is taking you so long? – SH” He changed his voice so he would sound as ridiculous as possible. When he was done laughing he put the phone back in his pocket and pinched John’s cheek.

“Aren’t you just adorable? Oh, young love. So beautiful. Don’t you agree Sebby?”

“It makes me sick.”

Moriarty sighed and crossed his arms over his chest and looked disappointed. “You’re so boring sometimes.” He suddenly clapped his hand together and turned around and started to walk away. “Anyway. I think we have talked enough now. Seb. Do your think.”

“With pleasure.”

John felt something heavy slam into the back of his head, it hurt and then everything just turned into blackness.

 

* * *

 

  _“John! John where are you?”_

_“I’m here! Here! Don’t you see?”_

_John could see Sherlock, He was right in front of him. Why could John see Sherlock but Sherlock couldn’t see John? It was like barrier was between them. John tries to reach out his hand, but his body was frozen. Moriarty was standing beside him, laughing. Sherlock didn’t see him either. Then Moran entered and Sherlock turned around and saw him. He could see Moran but not John and Moriarty, there was a barrier. Moran moved closer and closer, soon the distance was erased between them. Moran hit Sherlock and he fell to the floor._

_“NO!”_

_“Oh, yes Johnny boy, yes. Relax and enjoy the entertainment.”_

_Moran kicked Sherlock, he was still on the ground. Helpless. John tried to move his body but nothing happened. He wanted to help Sherlock but, he couldn’t. Sherlock’s eyes met John’s, his face was bloody and broken._

_“John…John…”_

_His eyes turned cold and…and…dead._

_“NO! NO! SHERLOCK!”_

* * *

John inhaled sharply, his lungs hurt, he blinked, and the only thing he saw was blur and colours mashed together in a mess. What had happened? Sherlock? Moriarty? He wanted to rub his eyes, but when he was to move his hands nothing happened, they were stuck behind his back. It felt like something was cutting into his flesh. He looked around, his vision was coming back now. Where was he? It was a dark room, the wallpapers were grey and covered in mould, the floor was made of wood, but the floor was also mouldy and almost black, there was some old furniture in the room as well. It must be an abandoned house, but why had Moriarty taken him to this place? Must be a good place for a murder, John thought.  He looked around again, Sherlock wasn’t here, had he been dreaming? John felt the banging pain the back of his head and was reminded why he had been out of it. Moran. Well now they were even at least, but that might not make a difference John thought.

“Finally awake. I thought I might have hit you too hard. Would have been boring if that was the case.” Moran sat on a chair in a corner of the room, it was so dark John had to look twice before he could see him. He was cleaning a pistol and didn’t even look at John as he spoke.

“Where am I?”

“In a room.”

“Where is Moriarty?”

“In another room.”

Moran looked up from his pistol and looked at John, he raised his eyebrow and laughed through his nose. “You’re clearly not the smart one.”

John looked down at his feet, they were tied to the chair, he tried to move his hands again but stopped because the rope was cutting into his wrists. Who ties someone to a chair with rope now a days? What was this? The 19th-century?   

John glanced over at Moran and saw he was typing on his phone. Moriarty probably. What were they going to do to him? Torture him, beat him, kill him? A door flew open and Moriarty walked into the room. He was wearing a suit now, it looked really expensive, his hair was perfect on his head and his shoes were shining even in this dark room. He looked like a different person, he and Adam could have been from different worlds. Who was this man? He had his hands in his trouser pockets, he walked over to Moran and he whispered something in his ear before he walked up to John.

“Good morning, Johnny. How’s the head?

“Oh just fine thank you very much.” His voice was dripping with sarcasm and Moriarty smiled and patted his head.

“You must have questions. Please, ask them.”

He walked over to Moran and waved his hand, Moran stood up and Moriarty took his chair and sat down in front of John, he crossed his legs and smiled.

“Why did you pretend to be ‘Adam’?”

“Well. I knew you and Sherlock had been snooping around when Ollie had been found dead. Seb told me about Sherlock, that he was a rich, spoiled kid who rebelled against his family and turned to drugs bla bla bla. He also told me that he was an intelligent little boy, who thought too much of himself. Sherlock might have thought he had kept his life hidden from the community, but we have our ways and we like to know who we are dealing with.” He paused and looked over at Moran who was smiling. “We know everything. I know everything.”

He looked at John and smiled. Who was this person? Was he even real? John looked away and saw a broken window on the side of the room. It was raining outside and it was dark, he didn’t know how long he had been out of it, hours?

Moriarty stretched in his chair and made sure his hair was in the right place on his head. “So when I heard from some of my people that a boy was looking for Sherly I got curious. I wanted to see who you were. And since you even hit Seb in the head to help him you two must be close. You were so nice too, helping poor Adam and all.” He laughed and rubbed his hands together, then his expression changed and he turned serious. He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. “But it changes nothing.”

John tried to swallow, but his throat was dry too dry. “Why. Why did Ollie have to die?”

“He was annoying.”

“You killed him because he was annoying?”

“Well. He was getting more and more, difficult. He thought he could do whatever he wanted to. Oh, he was wrong. So wrong.” He looked at Moran and then back at John, that smile, it made shivers go down John’s back. “He made some threats, and I needed to show him who was in charge. So, I did.” He rubbed his hands and then ran his fingers through his hair. “It was quite fun actually, It was great that he was a student at just that school. It was Seb who came up with the whole ‘staged suicide theme’. It wasn’t hard to make it look like a cover up, since it kind of was a cover up.” He giggled and looked pleased with himself.

“But the caretaker? You wanted it too look like he was the murderer.”

“Here’s the thing, Johnny boy, I could have Ollie killed where ever I wanted to. In the park. In his bed. But I wanted him to be found at the school for a reason. I wanted the schools caretaker to be arrested for the murder, for a reason. I wanted the headmaster to look bad. I wanted it to look like his school wasn’t a safe place. I made sure Moran put some drugs in the kid’s pocket so it would look suspicious. His friends would say he didn’t do drugs, which he never did, why would he have drugs in his pocket then. Maybe he wanted cash? Maybe he was selling? I don’t know.” Moriarty shrugged and made a face that made it look like he had no idea why Ollie would have drugs. Then he put his hands in his pockets and smiled again.

“Why?”

Moriarty’s smile disappeared and he stood up and started to wander about in the room. John could see that Moran was following him with his eyes. This was clearly a soft spot and John regretted he had asked.

“I was a student there, not that long ago. He made my life a living hell, but that started long before I became a student at his school. When I was a kid, my mum and my dad had trouble making enough money for the family. But they made it work and we all loved each other. One day my dad got a promotion and more money started to come in. Some years later he was a very important man in the company he worked in and we lived a good life and everything was well. Until one day when the police came crashing in through our door when we were having supper. They took my dad, I had to leave my mum. I later found out my dad had killed himself in prison, my mum was mentally ill and I was left alone. I had no idea what had happened and why it had happened.” He stopped in front of the window and looked out. His hands was joined behind his back and his head was tilted slightly forward. John glanced over at Moran and he was still looking at Moriarty.

“The first day in my new school I was called to the headmaster’s office. I thought I had done something wrong. On my way to his office I tried to figure out what I had done, but I had no idea. When I got to the office the headmaster asked me:”

“Are you James Moriarty’s son?”

“Yes I am. I answered. He frowned and looked at me like he was disgusted. I of course had no idea at the time why he felt like that. He then waved his hand and told me to leave his office. Everything was quiet for a few days, then letters started to be pushed under my door.  _‘You are as bad as you father.’_ That’s what it said on the first one, then I got more and more. And I was sent to the headmaster for things I hadn’t even done.”

“I knew you would be a problem. The son of a criminal, what could you expect?”

“I didn’t understand so I asked him what he was talking about. He then held a long speech about my dad. He said he was a criminal, that he robbed people, robbed banks, that he had an entire organisation behind him. I didn’t believe him of course, my dad would never do something like that. After that it got so bad I had to leave the school. Everyone hated me and I hated them just as much. It turned out that Mr Headmaster Frank Hall was right about my dad. He was the brain behind a big organisation and me and my mum didn’t know anything. So I thought. Why not follow my father’s footsteps?” he turned around and corrected his suit before he joined his hand behind his back again.

“So here I am. The big bad wolf. Apparently I have a talent for this.”

“So what? You’re mad at your old headmaster and now what?”

It was like someone hit a switch, Moriarty had been calm the entire time but now, it was like an explosion went off and John was going to get hit by the shock wave. Moriarty took four long steps and when he got to John he grabbed his shirt and pulled John up to his face. Their noses was almost touching and John felt Moriarty’s angry breathing on his face.

“HE RUIEND MY LIFE! HE WAS THE ONE WHO GOT MY DAD CAUGHT!”

Moran walked up to them and put one hand on Moriarty’s shoulder. Moriarty brushed it away and let go of John’s shirt and walked away. Moran looked down at John with hate in his eyes. John looked right back, he tried not to look scared and he hoped Moran couldn’t hear his heartbeat. Moran clutched his hand, lifted it and swung it towards John’s face.

It hurt, but John was determined not to scream or make any sound at all. He spat and he saw there was blood in his saliva. He looked up at Moran and he hit him once more before he went back to his place again.

“Frank Hall and my dad were friends you see.” He was standing with his back against the wall and he leaned his head against the wall as well. “He was the only one from my dad ‘real’ life who knew about his secret life and where his income came from. My dad trusted him.”

“If you want to avenge your dad. Why not just kill him then? You clearly can if you want to.”

“Oh Johnny. You’re not thinking far enough. My family and I suffered for years. I want him to suffer too. When I had the right connections and the right reputation I went back to the school and visited him. I told him I was going to make his life a living hell just as he had done for me. I was going to take his power and toy with it. He didn’t believe me of course.” He looked over at Moran and smirked. “So I had to leave him a little message. When he got home that day he found Seb on his sofa, with a knife pressed against the throat of his only daughter.”

John’s eyes were wide open and they travelled between Moran and Moriarty, both of them were smiling. They did this because they enjoy it. They love to toy with people, to scare people and control them. John’s stomach turned and he had to look out of the window and take a few deep breaths. Why were he telling his life story just like that? What was his plan? John moved his hands, the rope cut into his wrist and he closed his eyes and frowned. He wasn’t getting out of this house. Moriarty wasn’t planning on letting him go.

“Oh, don’t be so dramatic John, she was sedated and had no idea of what was going on. I just needed him to know I was serious. And it worked, after that everything went on smoothly. Until you and Sherlock showed up.”

John shrugged and looked at Moriarty. “So what now? Are you going to kill me? Why would you tell me all this otherwise?”

“Maybe I just like you.” He laughed and picked up his phone from his pocket. “I have something in mind, don’t worry. I just need to do some preparations first. Seb.” He waved his hand as he left the room and Moran followed him. They closed the door and John heard the click when they locked it.

“As if I can get up and walk away.” He tried to wiggle his hands in hope that maybe the rope would loosen up a bit. He felt the buzz from his phone in his pocket, someone was calling him. Sherlock? If he only could get one hand free.

“Come on! Don’t be so useless.”

It hurt, the rope cutting into his flesh. But what would happen if he didn’t get loose? What plan did Moriarty have in mind? Torture? Was he going to sell John to some slaver in a country far away? Maybe he was going to watch while Moran beat the crap out of him. That sounds like something he would enjoy. John bit his lip and tried to calm himself.

“Bloody hell!”

And what would they do with Sherlock? They wouldn’t just leave him alone right? Maybe his plan is to make me watch Moran beat Sherlock, John thought. He pulled even harder, he ignored the pain and bit his lips as hard as he could. He was starting to taste blood just as his hand finally was free. John’s breathing was out of control and the only thing he could hear was his own heartbeat. He grabbed his phone and dialled Sherlock’s phone. He heard the signals in his phone, and then he heard the sound of Sherlock’s phone. He looked around, trying to locate the source of the sound.

“Sherlock?” It came out as a whisper. Sherlock came in through another door on the opposite side of the room. John hadn’t seen it because a big old bookshelf had been standing in front of it. Sherlock raised his index finger to his lips, he then held his hands behind his back. John understood he wanted it to look like John was still tied to the chair. He put his phone into the pocket of his jeans and wiggled his hand back into the rope.

The door clicked and Moran entered the room again. John saw in the corner of his eye that Sherlock was gone again. John closed his eyes, he needed to think of something he and Sherlock was going to get out of here. He looked at Moran, he was sitting on his chair again and tapped at his phone, probably sending some important text to someone. John glanced over to see if Sherlock where anywhere to be seen. And indeed he was. He looked at John and it was clear he wanted his attention. He pointed at Moran and John understood he wanted him to distract Moran.

John cleared his throat extra loudly so Moran would look up at him. He lifted his head just enough so he could see John, then he looked down at his phone again.

“What?”

“Well, I was just thinking. What’s your title exactly? It’s clear Moriarty is the boss. Ollie was just a simple employee I guess. But, what are you?”

He ignored John and tapped at his phone again. John needed to get him to move from the chair so Sherlock maybe could get up behind him. The only thing John could think of wasn’t a very good idea, but it would work.

“Just his lapdog then. And the one who does the dirty work. So he never gets caught, but you would. You must really love him.”

There was nothing but silence for three seconds, the thing John could hear was his heartbeats that pounded in his ears. That had to work he thought. The Moran looked up, straight at John. The look in his eyes made John’s heart beat even faster. Maybe he had stepped too far over the line. Moran stood up, walked over to John and grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him up. John didn’t feel the chair under him anymore and he was inches from Moran’s face.

“What did you say? You little shit.”

“N-nothing.”

His eyes narrowed and he took a deep breath as if to try and calm himself down. “Jim want you alive so I can’t beat you to death. But he never specified  _how_ alive he wanted you.”

He let go of John’s shirt and turned his back against him and took a few steps forward. The he turned around and kicked John straight in the stomach. The char fell over and John struggled to catch his breath. He pulled his hand free and tried to get the other one loose.

“Oh no.” Another kick in the stomach. John was coughing and struggled with the ropes. He was pretty sure he had over done himself and he was almost sure he was going to get himself killed. He finally got his hand free and he tried to stand up. But his body didn’t work anymore, his brain told it to stand up, but nothing happened. Moran laughed and pulled a pack of cigarettes from his pocket, he put one between his lips and lit it. He kneeled beside John and inhaled deeply, he exhaled the smoke straight in John’s face and it made him cough more.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk, such a weakling.” He laughed and stood up. “You’re no fun at all.” He sounded disappointed and looked down at John again. “I prefer your boyfriend, so much fun.” He laughed louder and walked over to the window behind John. John had finally breathing correctly again and he tried to stand up again. “But you’ll have to do for the moment.” Moran had turned around again and kicked away John’s hands so he fell to the floor face first.

Maybe it was best if he just stayed down. It hurt more to fall anyway. He rested his cheek against the floor and looked over at the corner where he’d last seen Sherlock. John’s eyes widened and he tried to stand up again. Sherlock was standing in the room, a hundred percent visible. What the hell was he thinking? John started to panic. Moran hadn’t seen him jet. What would happen when he finally did?

John’s eyes met Sherlock’s. John wanted to yell at him, tell him to hide again. Sherlock’s eyes was calm and John didn’t understand why. What had he planned? Moran was standing with his back against them.

“I am so sorry I kept you waiting.  _Sebby.”_ John wanted to punch Sherlock. He was going to get them both killed.

Moran turned around and a smile spread across his face. He threw the cigarette to the floor and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well, well, look who we have here. Missed me did you?”

“Not at all. I came to get my friend.”

Moran laughed and looked over at John. “Just friend. I feel bad for you Johnny.” He patted John’s shoulder and the started to slowly circle around in the room. He was looking up at the ceiling, down at the floor, he looked at the windows and at the doors. “The question now is. What to do?”

Sherlock smirked and reached into the pocket on his coat. He pulled out his phone and threw it into the air and then caught it as it fell down. “There isn’t much you can do. I recorded the little speech your boss held and then I called the police. I think they are on their way here as we speak.”

Moran stopped and pulled his phone out if his pocket. He looked at it and then put it back into his pocket again. “Moriarty is on his way to a safe location. You can’t catch him.”

“I don’t intend to.”

John tried to understand the situation and Sherlock’s plan, but his head still hurt and the pain in his stomach ached. What was Sherlock trying to accomplish?

 Moran looked as confused as John, but his confusion was soon replaced with anger. He walked up to Sherlock and stopped right in front of him. “You think you are so clever don’t you.

 “I know I am clever.”

 Moran stared at Sherlock, not a single muscle moved in his face. John watched them and tried to figure out what their next move was going to be. Then Moran did something John wasn’t prepared for. He started to laugh. He grabbed Sherlock’s shoulders and then patted him on the head with one of his hands. His face then went from ironic smile to furious rage in less than a second and his fist hit Sherlock straight in the jaw.

 Sherlock fell to the floor and when John saw the pain in Sherlock’s face it was like someone had pushed a switch and he had full control over his body again. He took one long stride towards Moran and then jumped onto his back.  John started to pull Moran’s hair and tried to scratch his face. He was so filled with rage he didn’t care what he did, he just wanted to hurt Moran in any possible way. Moran twisted and turned as he tried to pull John from his back, when it didn’t work he slammed his back into the nearest wall over and over again. John had trouble hanging on to Moran and eventually lost his grip.

 Moran turned and was just about to kick John as Sherlock tackled Moran so both of them fell over. Sherlock was on top of Moran and started to launch fists against his face. Moran grabbed his arms and threw him to the side and then jumped to his feet. John was behind him and kicked him in the back of his knee so he fell down again Moran turned around and John launched a foot right into his stomach. He did it again, and again. Moran was laying on the floor trying to get air into his lungs. John shook his head. What had he done? Moran didn’t get up, he held his arms over his stomach and turned to the side with his back facing John and Sherlock. John ran over to Sherlock and helped him to his feet.

 “You okay?” John ran his hands over his cheeks and then over his chest as if to feel if anything was broken.

 “I’m fine.” Sherlock was looking at Moran on the floor. “Where, ehm, where did you learn to fight like that?”

 John’s heart hurt when he saw the look on Sherlock’s face, he actually looked scared. John pressed a gentle kiss against his lips. “Long story, maybe not the right time now.” Sherlock nodded and looked out of the window.  

 “The police is here now.”

 “To bad it’s too late then.”  

 John and Sherlock turned to see Moran on the floor with a gun in his hands. John had totally forgotten the gun he had been cleaning before. How could he have forgotten?

 “I’m not letting you two go. I will fucking kill you!” he pointed his gun at Sherlock and smirked. “I think I will start with you. You little whore.”

 Inside John’s head everything was moving in hyper speed, but in the real world it felt like everything was moving in slow-motion. John could see that Moran’s finger was slowly starting to press against the trigger on the gun. John grabbed Sherlock’s arm and threw him out of the way where he knew he was safe. John then threw himself at Moran, he grabbed his hand and tried to move it. But…

  **BANG**

 “NO!”  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, hello, I'm so sorry.  
> But, so close now. mehehe x)
> 
> And as usual I'm beg your pardon if there is any spelling or grammar errors. 
> 
> Hope you enjoyed :) 
> 
> Hugs and Kisses  
> MooshSmoosh


	12. Chapter Twelve

The sound of the fired pistol echoes inside John’s head. He wasn’t fast enough. Moran fired before John could disarm him. John turned his head and saw Sherlock on the floor, curled up as a ball with his hands over his stomach. There was blood. Sherlock’s blood. John’s breathing was heavy and his heart was racing in his chest. He looked at Moran. He was looking at Sherlock, it almost looked like he was surprised he had hit him. John saw his chance and tackled him into the floor. Moran wasn’t prepared for the attack and John had therefor no problem with getting the pistol out of his hands.

There was nothing but the sound of his own heartbeat in John’s ears, the rest of the world was quiet. He wanted to kill Sebastian Moran. He wanted to beat the life out of him. He wanted to see the life disappear from his eyes. And he wanted to hear his last breath.  

He grabbed the pistol and started to slam it into Moran’s head, over, and over again. At first Moran was launching fists against John’s face, some of them hit, but it didn’t stop John. He felt nothing. The adrenalin was pumping through his body and it felt like he was unstoppable.

Someone grabbed John’s shoulders and started to pull him from Moran. He soon found himself pushed up against a wall and staring into Detective Inspector Lestrade’s face. John saw Lestrade’s mouth moving but there was no sound. A hand slapped him over his right cheek and it was like someone pressed the mute button and the sound was back.

“Do you hear me? Answer me?!”

John blinked and tried to get his head around the situation. He looked at Moran who was being handcuffed and dragged out by two officers. John’s eyes then fell on Sherlock. There was someone kneeling beside him and John couldn’t see Sherlock’s face. He showed Lestrade’s arms to the side and ran over to Sherlock. He was pale, almost bluish. John held him in his arms and pressed his lips against Sherlock’s forehead. He was so cold.

“Sherlock? Sherlock!” Sherlock’s eyes were closed. “Sherlock. Please.”

John leaned his forehead against Sherlock’s. John wasn’t sure if this really happened or if it was a dream. Maybe he would wake up at home in Sherlock’s bed with a warm Sherlock in his arms. He couldn’t die. Not Sherlock. He was a fucking idiot, John thought. But he loved that idiot, so much.

“John?” Sherlock tried to take a deep breath, but started coughing up blood. Soon there was paramedics around them and Lestrade grabbed John’s arm and dragged him away from Sherlock.

“NO! Let go!” John tried to free his arm but Lestrade had a tight grip and didn’t let go.

“Do you want him to bleed out on the floor?” His voice was sharp and strong. “Are you such an idiot? If you don’t let us help him he _will_ die.” He grabbed John’s shoulders and almost shook him. Lestrade knew John was in chock and he knew he needed to get his mind back to reality. “Look at me.” John looked into his eyes. “What’s your name?”

“John.”

“John. You’re going to come with me and leave Sherlock to the paramedics and he will be fine. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Two more paramedics came in with a stretcher and they lifted Sherlock onto the stretcher and then left the room. John saw Sherlock just as they left the room, he was pale and his coat was covered in blood. John’s legs suddenly felt like clay and he fell to his knees. He covered his face with his hands and tears started to roll down his cheeks. Everything that had happened had felt so unreal, now everything washed over him all at once. He realised that he had been kidnapped, he could have been killed. Sherlock had been shot. John had gone rampage on a man. John felt sick and he pressed his hand over his mouth. Lestrade kneeled beside him and gently placed his hand on John’s back.

“It’s okay. It’s okay John. Everything will be fine now.”

John couldn’t hold back anymore finally threw up. Lestrade started to move his hand in circles on John’s back.

“It’s okay John. Let it all out.”

John whipped his mouth with the back of his hand and stared into the wall. He tried to control his breathing, but it didn’t matter how hard he tried he was still hyperventilating. Lestrade put his arm around his shoulders and helped John to his feet.

“Come on. I’ll take you to the hospital where they are taking Sherlock.”

It was dark outside and the stars was shining in the sky. The air was cool and John took a few deep breaths when he stepped outside. A shiver went down his spine and he realised he was really cold. He rubbed his arms and tried to get some circulation going in his body. Soon he was sitting in Lestrade’s car wrapped in a blanket. He looked out of the window and saw the city pass by, people walked on the streets, talked to each other, everything looked so normal, like nothing had happened. But to John it felt like he was in a nightmare. John rubbed his eyes and leaned his head and closed his eyes.

“John. John, wake up, we’re at the hospital now.”

Lestrade gently shook John’s shoulder but John’s eyes flew open and he pushed Lestrade’s hand to the side.

“I-I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine.” Lestrade’s eyes looked calm and John felt secure when he looked into them. “We are here now. Come, let’s go inside. I’ll get you some tea and someone to check if you have any serious injuries.”

John was sent into a room with a doctor who check every inch of him. He had some scratches and bruises here and there. His left hand was sprained and the he had so sew a few stitches in his right eyebrow. The doctor told John to stay in bed for the next few days, running around when someone had hit you in the back of the head was apparently not very good. Other than that he was fine, physically. His head was all messed up and he still had trouble with understanding everything.

John was staring into the white naked wall in the waiting room when Lestrade showed a cup of tea under his nose. John took the cup in his hands had just held it, it was hot against his skin, almost too hot. His eyes was now fixed on the liquid in the cup instead of the wall.

“John?” Lestrade sounded worried, he really wasn’t good at situations like this, but he couldn’t just leave the boy all alone. “Tell me what happened. I know there is a recording where everything is explained. But I want to know how you and Sherlock ended up in this mess.”

John looked at Lestrade with suspicion in his eyes. What was he going to do if John just told him everything? They had broken into a police station. John had knocked a man unconscious. Just the fact that they had put their noses into police work was bad enough.

Lestrade saw the suspicion in John’s eyes and smiled gently. “I’m not going to tell anyone. I recognize you two from when I ran into both of you at the school. And correct me if I’m wrong, but might it have been you two who broke into my office?”

John studied his face. Was he bluffing? Was it safe to tell him? John wished he had Sherlock’s mindreading ability. But in the end John was so tired and spent he didn’t care anymore so he nodded in response and looked down into his cup again.

So John told him everything. That it was Sherlock’s idea, that he knew from the start that the police would get it wrong and he knew he could get the right one. John told him how they had gotten into the station and how they had found Moran and Moriarty. That Sherlock had recorded the “speech” just in case no one would believe them when they would tell the police, or if they would be killed there would probably be a copy of the recording on Sherlock’s computer.

“And the rest you know.” Lestrade nodded his head slowly. John looked at him but couldn’t read his face. “I’m sorry that we broke rules and, laws…well, I don’t really have anything to say in our defence.”

Lestrade stood up and went to throw his empty cup in the trash bin and then leaned against the wall, he crossed his arms over his chest and looked at John. A smile spread across his face and he laughed through his nose.

John wasn’t sure how he was supposed to take the reaction. Was he mad? Why would he smile and laugh?  

“What? What is it?”

Lestrade rubbed his face with his hands and then let his arms fall to his sides. He looked tired, but he still had a smile on his face. “I had a feeling something was fishy whit this case. It was so obvious it was the caretaker with the prints and all. But in interrogation it was made very clear he wasn’t a person capable of taking someone’s life, but I had no clues or evidence for another person. Everything was pointing at the caretaker.” Lestrade ran a hand through his hair and kicked the trash bin. “Fucking neon light signs was pointing at him.”

“So you knew?”

“Well I’m not I total failure as a DI, just that no one was listening to me and we had to take the caretaker.” He paused and exhaled as he shook his head. “I’m so amazed that two teenagers could figure it all out.” Lestrade crossed his hand over his chest and looked up at the ceiling and laughed again. “I could use the two of you.”

He said it more to himself than to John but John had heard it and he thought that Sherlock would enjoy helping the police. First of all he would be distracted from boredom. Second, he would like to outsmart people and show of his skills of deduction. John smiled and pictured Sherlock at a crime scene, running around collecting all the data he could find, then piecing it all together and catch the criminals. Sherlock, you crazy fool. Sherlock. John’s smile faded as he remembered the situation. He looked at the clock but as he did that a nurse came into the room.

“Are you waiting for Sherlock Holmes?”   

John stood up even before she had finished her sentence. “Yes!” the nurse looked at him and John saw sadness in her eyes. What was it? Was something wrong with Sherlock? Was he dead? “Is he going to be fine?” panic was in his voice as he spoke and a gentle smile spread across the nurse’s face.

“He is going to be just fine, dear. He was shot in the abdomen, not the stomach. So no organs was damaged and he will make a full recovery. Come with me and I’ll show you to his room.”

John looked at Lestrade and he John could not help himself from letting a tired smile show on his face, he was met by a smile and a pat on the shoulder. “Come now. Can’t let him wait now can you.”

“You’re not coming?” John looked surprised, he had been sure Lestrade had been coming with him to ask Sherlock some questions or something.

“No, not today. You need to be alone. I’ll stop by tomorrow for some police stuff. Nothing to worry about.” He was smiling, John felt the urge to give him a hug, after all he had saved his and Sherlock life.

“Thanks, Detective Inspector.”

“Oh, please. Call me Greg.” He smiled even bigger and ruffled John’s hair as he walked past him. “See you soon.” He walked out of the door and John was left with the nurse.

“Just follow me here, love. He is going to be all fine. He is sleeping now, but you can see him.” 

John followed the nurse through the long white naked corridors of the hospital. It smelled like medicine and hand sanitizer. They passed humans in white as they made their way and John lets his eyes wander into the open rooms on the side of the corridor. His eyes focused on the different faces of the people, some was smiling, some was relived, and some was crying. Hospitals are weird John thought, this is a place people come to when they are going to die. This is also the place people come to escape death. It’s the place where life starts, and ends.

“Here it is.” The nurse had stopped in front of a closed door and had a hand on the door handle. John looked at her face. No sadness, she didn’t look melancholy. She was smiling. Not a big teeth showing smile, but a small one, she smiled with her eyes.

“He must be very special to you.”

“How-“

“Oh, dear, I can see it.”

She winked and opened the door. She didn’t enter, she was holding the door open for John. John didn’t know what to say or do, he just looked at her, mouth open. Was it so obvious that he cared for Sherlock? He hadn’t really thought about how he acted when it came to Sherlock. He just was.

The nurse nodded her head in the room’s direction. “Come on then. Can’t leave him waiting.”

“No. Right. Thanks.” John shook his head and entered the room. It was big, bigger than John had thought. It was dark and the curtains was drawn in the windows, they were in an ugly floral pattern, the usual fashion you would find in a hospital. In the room there was a door, which John thought must lead to a bathroom, two armchairs. Hospital standard. And of course a big hospital bed with monitors and all that comes with that. In the bed was a sleeping Sherlock.

At first John just stood at a distance and looked at him. He looked so small in that big bed, his hair was a mess, and he was very pale. But the first thing John looked at was Sherlock’s chest. When he saw the slow rise and fall of his breathing, he exhaled a breath he had held without even realising. John took a few steps forward and reached the end of the bed. He clutched his fist hard and looked down at the floor.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Sherlock. I wasn’t fast enough.” His voice was shaking and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. “I couldn’t protect you.”

John quickly dried the tear on his cheek and looked straight at Sherlock. He was determined, he couldn’t fall apart like this. Both of them was alive and Sherlock was going to be okay. He walked over to one of the armchairs and dragged it to the side of the bed. He sat down and held Sherlock’s hand in his, he stroked it slowly in random patterns.

“No one will ever hurt you again. That is my promise to you.” John smiled and kissed Sherlock’s hand. “Good thing you’re sleeping. This is embarrassing stuff you know. And you would probably say that I’m an idiot.” He stroked Sherlock’s cheek and moved a curl of hair. “It’s your fault I’m an idiot, idiot.”

* * *

John sat for hours just stroking Sherlock’s hands until he fell asleep as well. After seeing Sherlock, after touching him and realise he was fine the adrenalin and fear washed away and left John spent on the side of Sherlock’s hospital bed. He woke up when he realised someone was petting his hair, he looked up and saw Sherlock, smiling, awake at last.

“Hello.” Sherlock said, still petting John’s hair.

“Hi.” John smiled and grabbed Sherlock’s hand and kissed it. He rested his lips against his hand and smelled Sherlock’s skin.  “I was so worried.”

“It is nothing John, I am fine.” He moved over so John could join him in the bed. John saw the pain on his face but didn’t say anything, arguing wasn’t what he wanted to do just now. John climbed into the bed and Sherlock rested his head on his shoulder. John was expecting him to say something more, but Sherlock just took John’s hand and entwined their fingers. “I am sorry that I dragged you into this mess. I got you kidnapped and all. You should-“

John grabbed his chin with his thumb and index finger and pulled him into a kiss. He could guess what Sherlock was going to say and he didn’t want to hear the words. “Don’t. Just don’t.” he said as their lips parted. “Yes, we got in way over our heads. Yes, we could have gotten killed by a mad man and his partner. But… here we are, in a hospital bed. Alive.”

As Sherlock looked at him John saw how his eyes started to tear up, but before a tear left his eyes he hugged John hard and hid his face. John hugged him back as hard as he dared since he was afraid he was going to hurt Sherlock.

John remembered the first time he had met Sherlock. John had at first thought he was an odd, emotionless robot. The way he talked to people was the way a person who wants distance talk. What had John done that made Sherlock break down a small piece of the wall around him so that John could come in? He was no one to anyone. Not since his parents had died. John kissed the top of Sherlock’s head and thanked God, Jesus, Buddha, Kamadeva, Allah every god and holy spirit he knew and remembered the name of. Thanks for allowing me to get to know this wonderful human being.

“I will never leave you.” John whispered into Sherlock’s ear.

“I would never allow you.”

John smiled, a typical Sherlock response.

“Oh, how sweet.”

Sherlock sat up straight faster than a lightning bolt. It was painful, but he didn’t shiw the pain on his face. Not for him. John knew who it was before he turned his head, he would recognize that voice everywhere.

“Mycroft.”

“Sherlock.”

John observed the quiet conversation that was going on between the two Holmes brothers. It was a very interesting thing to witness John thought. He could almost see just by looking at their eyes what they were thinking.

It was very clear that Mycroft wanted to scold Sherlock. But even if there wasn’t much love between the brothers, Mycroft cared for Sherlock and would not yell at him in front of John while he was recovering from being shot.

Mycroft was the one who ended the staring contest when he looked down at his umbrella. It was wet, the rain had started to pour again then.

“What do you want?”

“Maybe I want to check in on my little brother who just got shot. Isn’t that what brothers do?”

“You know nothing of brotherhood, _dear brother._ ”

Mycroft looked up and at Sherlock. To John it almost looked like he had been hurt by Sherlock’s words, but John didn’t understand the dynamics between them and was therefore not sure.

Mycroft straightened his tie and looked out of the window. “I just wanted to tell you that we have Sebastian Moran in custody. He won’t be a problem anymore.” He looked at Sherlock and to John’s surprise Sherlock looked away. Did Mycroft knew what he had done towards Sherlock? And why he had done it? “Moriarty has left the country and as for right now, we know nothing.”

Sherlock laughed through his nose. “ _You,_ admitting you know nothing. That is something one do not here often.” Sherlock was mocking Mycroft, clearly wanting him to leave.

Mycroft sighed and straightened his tie once more. “Well, I think you will be doing fine. The doctor said so at least. And by the look of you he must be right.” He turned and walked out of the door, as his back disappeared around the corner John and Sherlock heard him say. “I will be in touch soon.”

“I hope not.” Sherlock said as he slid down into the bed and under the covers and leaned his head on John’s shoulder again.  John put his arm around Sherlock’s shoulders and rested his head against Sherlock’s.

“Is this the first time you solve a murder?” John asked as casually as he could. Why hadn’t the thought hit him earlier? Sherlock had solved a murder and saved an innocent man. Crime solving. Not a hobby your average 15-year-old would have.

“Yes. And this is the first time the police listen to my theories.”

“You mean you have solved other crimes before?”

“Nothing big. Break-ins, I helped Akiko and Ayama remember, and some other minor cases.”

He said cases, like this was something normal and something he did all the time. John realised this must be what keeps Sherlock from boredom, what keeps him sane.

“Oh. So. You do these kinds of things, all the time?”

“No.” There was silence. Sherlock grabbed John’s hand and entwined their fingers. “But I would like to.”

He sounded so small, not the usual sure-of-myself Sherlock voice. This was his inner thoughts, thoughts John guessed he had never shared before, and he did now. John smiled and kissed Sherlock’s cheek.

“Then do it.”

Sherlock turned his head and looked up at John, there was a smile in his eyes. “I will. Will you come with me? I don’t think Moriarty will just leave us now, he will be back. There will be danger.”

Without hesitation John answered, because he had loved this, the hunting, watching Sherlock’s brilliance, actually doing something good. And he knew he would never be able leave Sherlock if there was a chance he might be in danger.

“Always.”  

* * *

Both of them fell asleep after that. It took a long time before Sherlock had recover enough so that he could return to school. Lestrade had come to the hospital and was very clear that he would not tell anyone that they had broken into the police station. He even thanked Sherlock for providing him with the right evidence so he could arrest the right man for the murder. Sherlock usually said the police was useless and never could do their job. John knew he liked Lestrade and that he considered him an intelligent man.

“He knew the caretaker wasn’t the one who killed Ollie. And he is a Detective Inspector even though   he isn’t an old man. Maybe there is hope for the police after all.” Sherlock had said, surprised, when Lestrade had left them. John only laughed.   

John stayed with Sherlock in the hospital the entire time. He was actually shocked that no one had tried to throw him out. Maybe Mycroft had something to do with it. At one point Sherlock asked John why he stayed, there wasn’t much to do in a hospital room after all. John smiled and said that someone had to make sure he didn’t destroyed the room or tried to escape. Sherlock threw a pillow at him, but John saw the smile on his lips.

John tried to keep Sherlock busy, but after a while nothing worked. He would lay in bed staring up at the celling screaming “BOOORED! JOHN I AM BORED!” Nurses tried to get him to stop whine, but no one could do anything. Thankfully the doctor said he could go home soon after that, but he were forbidden to run around or do anything that could tear up his wound again. Sherlock just nodded and stormed out of the room. John told the doctor he would look after him.

As soon as they returned home Sherlock began to spend all his time doing various experiments, he was writing notes in what looked like Latin. He spent long hours in the school lab and almost never spoke. Unless he was offending someone.

They hadn’t talked about what had happened at all and John was afraid this was Sherlock’s way of handling it. John would prefer they spoke about it, but he had a feeling that maybe Sherlock wasn’t ready for that just jet.

Two weeks went by since they had come home from the hospital, and it was just a normal day in 221b, Sherlock was sitting on the floor experimenting and John was on his laptop writing an email to Harry.

“John.”

“Yes?” John didn’t turn around he just continued to write his email. He thought Sherlock was going to ask him to make some tea. But when he didn’t say anything he turned and faced Sherlock. “What is it Sherlock?”

Sherlock was still sitting on the floor, he was looking down at the floor. John realised he was trying to tell him something and slid down from his chair and sat on the floor opposite Sherlock. John didn’t say anything, he waited for Sherlock to speak. It was like he didn’t want to scare away a small shy animal and waited for it to make the first move.

“I got you kidnapped. And we now have a crazy criminal after us who can strike back at any time.”

John nodded.

“I have put, both of us, in danger.”

Another nod.

“Why aren’t you… Mad? Yelling at me? Why aren’t you doing something? I have tried to figure it out why you have been so calm about all of this. Any, normal human would be scared.”

John looked at Sherlock, smile on his lips. That was the reason he had been so distant since they had come home. He had actually tried to understand John’s feelings. John knew this was an area Sherlock wasn’t familiar with and that he thought human emotions wasn’t worth his time.

Sherlock’s face was irritated and when John didn’t give him an answer but only smiled he got even more frustrated.

“Why are you not answering me? Why-“

His face relaxed and he looked into John’s eyes. “You are not ‘any, normal human’ you are mine. My John Watson, and he is spectacular, fantastic and fearless.”

John laughed grabbed Sherlock’s t-shirt and dragged him into a kiss. “All of that was so true. Well except the fearless part. I’m really not a fan of snakes.”

Sherlock kissed him deep and entwined his fingers in John’s hair. When he pulled away to get some air he said “If there is a story behind that I would much like to hear it.”

John smiled and gently bit Sherlock’s lip. “Nope. Not telling you.”

Sherlock climbed into John’s lap and locked his legs around him. He licked John’s earlobe and whispered into his ear. “I will not let go of you until you tell me.” He bit the earlobe and then sucked at it.

A wave of pleasure went through John’s body and he slid one hand under Sherlock’s t-shirt and the other one caressed his neck. He kissed Sherlock’s neck, first it was gentle and sweet, and then he started to leave marks on Sherlock’s pale, hot skin. He pressed his nose against Sherlock’s neck and inhaled his smell. It almost made John’s head spin, just as everything else Sherlock was and did. “I think you’re doing this the wrong way. I don’t want you to move one inch. “

“Maybe it was an excuse.”

“I think it is.”

John laid down on the floor, Sherlock straddled him and started to unbutton his jeans. He suddenly stopped and John looked up, not understanding why Sherlock stopped.

“Something wrong?”

Sherlock leaned forward and planted a kiss on John’s lips. “I like you in these pants.”

John looked down at his crotch and saw his favourite pair of red pants. “They are my favourites.”

Sherlock kissed him again and then pulled John’s jeans of and threw them across the room. John sat up and pulled the t-shirt over Sherlock’s head and threw it in a different direction. John kissed Sherlock’s chest and licked and kissed his nipples. Under his lips he felt Sherlock’s heart beating, fast. The thought that he was the one who made Sherlock’s heart speed up was a wonderful feeling. _I made him feel like this._ John let one hand slowly travel from Sherlock’s chest down his upper body. He stopped when his hand touched the bandage that still covered Sherlock’s bullet wound. He looked up at Sherlock.

“Are you sure.”

Sherlock, looked irritated and grabbed a hand full of John’s hair and pulled his head back.

“I am not a fragile doll, John.”  His eyes were dark, filled with want and his voice sounded husky.

Sherlock pulled John in for a kiss, but just as their lips was almost touching Sherlock stopped and his grip on John’s hair stopped John from moving closer. Sherlock looked at John, and he like what he saw. John under him, flushed face, mouth slightly open and eyes dark, filled with arousal. John smiled and grabbed Sherlock’s hips and dragged him closer so he could kiss Sherlock.

“You tease.” He breathed against Sherlock’s lips.

He started to undo the knot on Sherlock’s pyjama pants and pulled them down so he could get his hand into Sherlock’s pants. John ran his fingers up and down Sherlock’s cock. Sherlock made a sound that gave John goose bumps. _I made him sound like that._ John wrapped his hand around Sherlock’s cock and kissed his neck, he felt Sherlock’s rapid breaths under his lips. John never thought the feeling of someone’s breaths, the feeling of someone’s hearth breath under his lips could be so erotic.

John felt Sherlock’s hand on his cock, he was rubbing it through the fabric of his red pants. John bit Sherlock’s earlobe and then sucked another mark on his neck. Sherlock kissed John, a wild kiss, teeth against teeth, lip sucking, lip biting. Sherlock pulled away and smirked. Before John could say anything he felt teeth on the inside of his thigh. He looked down and into Sherlock’s eyes, in his mouth he had the edge of John’s pants and with his teeth he pulled them down just enough so that John’s cock came out. Sherlock then pulled the pants off and threw them on the bed behind him.

He pressed a hand on John’s chest to indicate he wanted John to lay down. Sherlock kissed John’s scar and then worked his way down his body, planting kisses and leaving marks. He kissed the inside of John’s thigh, slowly moving his lips closer to his erect penis.

Sherlock planted kisses on John’s abdomen and when he finally licked the underside of the shaft John moaned loudly. Sherlock swallowed him and went as far down he could before the gag reflex kicked in. He sucked lightly as he moved his head slowly up and down.

“Jesus, Sherlock.”

John grabbed Sherlock’s hair and bit his own lip, hard. He was close, so close, but then Sherlock pulled of and climbed on top of John. John saw on his face he had something planed, he felt Sherlock’s cock against his own and when he looked down he saw Sherlock’s hand around their cocks. Sherlock moved his hips and hand at the same time. Oh, it felt so good.

John buried his fingernails in Sherlock’s shoulder and pressed his lips against Sherlock’s. John felt Sherlock’s hot breath on his face, and Sherlock felt John’s. Their cheeks where flushed and there was perspiration on their faces. Sherlock rested his forehead against John’s shoulder, his breathing was heavier and John guesses he must be close. He placed on of his hands around their cocks as well and moved with the same rhythm as Sherlock. Sherlock bit John’s shoulder and John felt wetness on his stomach. The sound that came out of Sherlock’s throat was what drove John over the edge, he wasn’t sure how loud he was, but in this moment he didn’t care in anyone heard them. Sherlock collapsed on John and for a few moments they were completely still, jus breathing.

“You… are bloody amazing.” John said when his heart had slowed down a bit and his breathing was more controlled.

“And you are quite fantastic.”

 The looked at each other and John kissed Sherlock’s forehead, nose and then lips.

“Always be mine.” Sherlock whispered, as if he was afraid someone might hear him.

“Always. Always, Sherlock.”

* * *

Slowly everything went back to normal again. It almost felt like Ollie’s murder and the encounter with Moriarty was a dream. Sherlock and John returned to school, some people asked where they had been, but after Sherlock had deduced every little thing about their life and future, and thus scared the life out of them, they stopped asking. Sometimes John almost forgot how close he was to losing his life, when he remembers again he feel unsafe, he looked over his shoulder when he walked down the streets in the evening, he always looked extra carefully at strangers that might approach him. Then he comes home and finds Sherlock in the middle of an experiment and he feels safe again.

Lestrade came by the dorm some time after they returned from the hospital. He told them Mycroft’s people had taken over the case and Moran. He was kind of angry that they had just taken his case from him, but he also understood that this was no ordinary case. He also wanted to make sure both of them were doing fine after everything they had been through. Sherlock pretended he was irritated and just waved his hand and said “Of course we are fine.” And then he continued to look through an old book and scribbled down notes on a paper. Lestrade smiled and patted John on the shoulder before he left them.

One evening John sat at this desk, he had his window slightly open because Sherlock had by “accident” sat fire to the carpet. The fire was extinguished and the smoke was gone, but it still smelled like burnt carpet so John had opened the window so get the smoke smell out and the cold fresh air in. The first snow had fallen that evening and the ground was powdered with white. John looked over at Sherlock. He was under his covers, sulking. He didn’t want the window open, the cold apparently disturbed him. John knew it was just a poor excuse because he was mad at John because he had extinguished the fire. Sherlock tried very hard not to be mad or irritated at John, sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t, and sometimes he threw his arms around and made a stupid excuse and dove under his covers. Just like a four-year-old.

John smiled as he looked at Sherlock. He loved that, sulking, four-year-old so much. He closed his books and walked over to Sherlock and climbed on top of him.

“Excuse me! You are killing me.” Sherlock started to kick and push like an angry child. “Get of me!”

John managed to dodge a foot and a fist and dove under the covers and pinned Sherlock’s arms and legs to the mattress. Sherlock tried to look grumpy, but John started to laugh as he saw Sherlock’s “grumpy face” and soon Sherlock joined in on the laughter. John rolled over and laid down on the bed beside Sherlock who put his arm over John’s stomach and his head on John’s chest.

“I apologise for my behaviour before.”

“It’s okay.”

“Your understanding is something I do not understand sometimes.” He said as he poked John’s stomach.

John laughed and placed one of his hands on Sherlock’s neck. “I will try and become more angry and not understanding then.”

“Yes. That would be good.”

They laughed again and then just laid there, under the covers, in each other’s arms. John was about to fall asleep as Sherlock rolled over so he was on John’s stomach facing him.

“John.”

“Yes Sherlock.”

“If I were to, do things like this again. Solve crimes. Solve mysteries. Would you do it with me?”

This was the most serious John had ever seen Sherlock and he knew this was a serious question. Sherlock loved to solve puzzles, old riddles, and math problems. He loved to prove that old myths and mysteries was false. During the Ollie Harris case there had been a glow around him, his eyes had almost sparkled as he had found a clue. This was what Sherlock loved, and John knew that.  And knew he wanted Sherlock in his life.

“Well. Someone has to make sure you eat and clean yourself.” John sighed and pretended this was a big burden and looked away. “I guess I have to.”

Sherlock didn’t say anything and John turned to look at him. Sherlock looked destroyed. This wasn’t the first time Sherlock reacted like this to sarcasm. John didn’t understand why he couldn’t see when he was joking or not. Sherlock knew everything about anyone just by looking at the way they trimmed their fingernails or the way their hair was styled.

“Sherlock. I’m joking. Of course I would do it with you.”

Sherlock rolled of John and laid his head on John’s chest again. “Good. Because you didn’t have a choice anyway.”

John smiled and kissed Sherlock head. “I love you. Idiot.”

John closed his eyes and thought about the time he had known Sherlock. This year had started so badly. He had been depressed, he felt alone, forgotten. Then Sherlock crashed into his life. Now here he was. Happy. Loved. Not alone anymore. John had thought this year was going to be a grey, awful year. No happiness, alone in some boarding school where he knew no one. This year had ended in chaos and horrible things had happened. And jet, this year had been the most perfect one John had ever experienced.

The year of 2010. The year John Watson met Sherlock Holmes.

 

The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. I finally did it. It's done!  
> I hope you enjoyed it. It's my first "real" fanfic and every chapter was improvised as I sat down to write. It was a fun way to work. But it got a little problematic at the end...but I did it! 
> 
> Thank you for everyone who have read the fic. Thank to everyone who followed my work when it was in progress. Just, thank you, who ever you are. You are great! 
> 
> Sorry if I messed something up or misspelled something or crushed all rules of grammar. (I make my own rules. Yeah! ...)
> 
> There is also an epilogue. So. Go and read it, if you want. :P
> 
> Hugs and Kisses  
> MooshSmoosh


	13. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 18 years later.  
> John and Sherlock meets an old "friend" after all these years.  
> What will happen?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. My friend thought it might be fun to make an epilogue in the actual series. Since 2010 was the year they met the first time as teenagers this won't be 2010. I had to rewrite some of the content of the original to match with what I had done in my fic. So, some things are changed.  
> Don't hate.  
> I don't think I can make the original better.  
> No one can.  
> It's pretty prefect man! 
> 
> I'm happy with it. And I hope you enjoy it. :3

18 years later 

The wind was blowing through the broken windows in the apartment on Baker Street. Sherlock pulled his collar up and rubbed his arms to get some circulation going in his arms, once in a while he screamed at the TV. How could people watch this? It made no sense, no logic at all. He would never admit it, but it was entertaining somehow. He had never been interested in “crappy telly” but since John had introduced him that one time he almost destroyed the flat from boredom, he was kind of hooked.

They were happy with their lives here on Baker Street in the apartment they rented from Mrs Hudson, Sherlock worked with Lestrade and helped him solve cases he could not solve on his own. As he had promised, John was still with Sherlock, by his side. There had been hard times, but somehow they had managed to not kill each other over the years.

John was updating his blog and was not talking to Sherlock at the moment. He was angry. Angry that Sherlock could have saved those poor people sooner. His arrogance was too much at times and this time people’s lives was on stake. John tapped the keys on his laptop hard, maybe too hard. There, finally done. He slammed the laptop shut and stood up and walked to the hallway.

“I’m meeting with Sarah. She wanted to have a chat.” He said a she kicked his slippers of his feet and slipped his feet into his shoes.

She was the girl he almost had sex with in a restroom so many years ago. They had meet again when John had returned to the arcade after all the chaos with Moriarty had calmed down. He apologized for just leaving her that time. She had just laughed and said it was good he did leave. She had just broken up with her girlfriend and was angry and sad and wanted to hurt her in some way, and having sex with a strange guy seemed like a good idea at the time. They became friends and stayed in touch and John thought it was nice to have someone to talk at times.

Sherlock looked annoyed, he didn’t like John meeting with her, and even though he knew she was in a relationship with another woman he didn’t like John seeing someone he almost had sex with.

“Do you have to? You have seen her so very often recently.” He tried very hard not to look at John and stared intensely at the telly.

“What? No I haven’t. And I can see who ever I want Sherlock.”

John left the flat and closed the door, maybe a little bit too hard. Sherlock looked at the door as soon as it slammed shut. He quickly grabbed his laptop and opened it. He knew who the bomber was. He suspected him from the beginning, but after the interrogation with Miss Wenceslas he had his name. Moriarty. He was back. So many years had passed, but Sherlock never forgot. He had tried to find him on several occasions, but he didn’t want John to worry and tried to keep his search as quiet as he could. Now he had him, and he probably knew Sherlock knew who he was. Sherlock had talked Lestrade into not telling John about him. Lestrade was not happy, but he understood Sherlock wanted to protect John and therefore agreed.

Sherlock opened his website, he was ready, he was going to contact him.

_The Pool. Midnight._

He grabbed the USB with Mycroft’s missile plans and looked at it. A good-to-see-you-again present maybe.

Sherlock sat in his armchair for a few seconds, just staring straight ahead. Why had he been away for so long? Why wait for them to grow up? He could have killed them so easily back then. Maybe he wanted a bigger challenge? Sherlock put his laptop aside and walked out, out into the cold night.  

* * *

Sherlock picked the lock to the old pool, not very hard, old locks, easy to pick. He opened the door and walked into the pool. He hadn’t been to a public pool in ages. He wasn’t prepared on the smell, it was almost hurting his nose. How could people come here completely voluntary? He joined his hands behind his back and moved slowly into the open. He was confident, he was going to get him this time. He was going to pay. Pay for the time he kidnapped and hurt John. No one hurts John and just walks away. Sherlock clenched his hands, a flash of an image where was tied to a chair. So young, so brave.

Sherlock knew something was wrong when John took so long to go get something to eat. He had called his phone to make sure, and when John didn’t answer Sherlock knew he had to do something. Tracking him wasn’t hard, Sherlock had installed a tracking system into John’s phone for situations just like this. It was almost too easy. It was a little tricky getting into the building without making too much noise and not being seen. But John was in danger and no mistakes could be made. John had gotten Moriarty to talk, so clever, now Sherlock could use his own words against him if he recorded it all. Which he did. He set and extra copy to his and John’s laptops in case his phone would be destroyed. He also sent an extra to Mycroft, just to be extra careful. Everything had gone fine, but then the fight with Moran happened and Sherlock ended up shot in the abdomen. He was so sloppy back then. Now he was ready. Moriarty couldn’t get him or John this time.

John was safe in town with Sarah at some pub talking about boring things. John wasn’t here. Actually, no one was here.

Sherlock heard the sound of an old door creak as it was pushed open. He turned around to see who it was. Must be Moriarty. Finally revealing himself after all these years. Sherlock had a smug smile on his face. He had been waiting for this. But his smile was soon washed away as he saw the person coming through the door. It wasn’t Moriarty. It was John.

“J-John?” His brain froze. This wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. John was supposed to be with Sarah, in a pub, talking about boring things. There were few times Sherlock had experienced brain malfunction, every time it had happened John had been involved. But that had been when they had first kissed, or when John told him that he loved him for the first time. Good memories, good brain malfunctions. This was not good.

“Evening” John couldn’t say anything but the things being said in the earpiece. He knew that voice, that disgusting voice. He had to warn Sherlock somehow. He blinked the S.O.S signal with his eyes. There was no reaction from Sherlock, he was just staring straight at John. Damn it Sherlock, not now, John thought.

John tried to be in control of his pulse and his breathing, freaking out would not help him or Sherlock in this situation. He blinked the signal again. No reaction.

“This is a turn-up isn’t it, Sherlock?” John tried to sound as monotone as he could, not sounding as he usually did. He must see what I’m trying to tell him, John thought.

“John? Wh-What?”

“Bet you never saw this coming.” Come on Sherlock, restart that brain of yours, and don’t panic.

“Show him. Show him what is on your chest, Johnny boy.” That voice. It felt like it was inside his head.

John did as he was told, he opened his Jacket and revealed the semtex on his chest.

“What would you like me to make him say next?” John continued in a monotone voice.

He was so pleased with himself. He laughed now. John wanted to punch him in his smug face.   

“Gottle o'geer, gottle o'geer, gottle-”

”Stop it!” Sherlock looked at John, he was back, John could see it in his eyes. He then looked around, trying to locate the one who was talking through John.

“Nice touch this, the pool, where little Carl died. I stopped him.” Another laugh in his ear before the next sentence. “I can stop John Watson, too. Stop his heart.”

“Where are you? I know it’s you.”

Sherlock hears another creaky door open.

“I gave you my number, thought you might call.”

It was the first time since that day he had heard his voice. Sherlock had forgotten how much he loved to sound like a complete idiot. Sherlock felt the anger that started to build up inside him. He had to remain calm.

“Fell for the same trick twice John.” *tsk tsk tsk* “I’m very disappointed. And you didn’t recognize me either Sherlock. I’m so hurt.”

He finally came out in the light and Sherlock saw him. He looked different. It was when their eyes met and he saw the evil smile in his eyes he recognized him. Sherlock grabbed the gun he had in his pocket, he felt his hand shake just as he closed his fingers around it, he wasn’t sure why.

“Is that a British Army Browning L9A1 in your pocket, or are you just pleased to see me?”

Sherlock drew his gun and pointed it at Moriarty and gave him a fake smile. “Both.”

Moriarty clapped his hands together and smiled big. “Did you miss me? I sure missed you. Both of you. 18 years is a very long time. I’m sorry I couldn’t visit you sooner.” He dropped his smile and moved closer. “Did you think I had moved on? Maybe found someone knew to play with.” He sighed “You are my favourites, I would never leave you.”

“I knew you were coming back sooner or later.” Sherlock clenched the gun and forced another smile.   

 “Of course you did. My smart little boy.”

Moriarty had stopped at the end of the pool, so the distance between him and Sherlock was quite big. John was standing in-between them, he didn’t say anything or moved a muscle, afraid Moriarty’s sniper would put a bullet in his chest. Then both he and Sherlock would die. Sure Moriarty would be dead too, but it was not worth it. For a second he looked up and searched for Sherlock’s eyes. John tried to look as calm as he could, but apparently he didn’t succeed because as Sherlock’s eyes met his he looked terrified as well.

“You remember Seb right? You and he were so close and all.” He looked straight at Sherlock, smile on his lips. “Well it took me quite some time get him back you see. But now he is here. Holding the gun for me once more. Everything is back to normal.” He held his hands to his cheeks and grinned big. He looked like an overgrown child with too white teeth. “As you know I don’t really like getting my hands dirty.” He put his serious face on again and started to slowly walk towards John and Sherlock.

“I’ve given you a glimpse Sherlock, just a teensy glimpse of what I’ve got going on out there in the big bad world.” He paused and stopped, he looked up at Sherlock. There was no smile on his lips, no mockery. “I’ve grown. Bigger. More…evil. I’ve got more power. Do you still want to take me on? Do you think you can best me? Do you think you can beat me?”

“Yes, I do.”

The corner of his lip turned upwards and he tilted his head to the side. “No, one ever gets to me.” The smile disappeared and he stood straight and crossed his arms over his chest. “And no one ever will.”

“I did.”

Sigh. “You have come the closest. But now you’re in my way. _Again._ It’s not healthy to get in my way too many times, Sherly.”

“Oh, I am so scared.”

“You should be. I have shown you what I can do. I cut lose all those people, all those little problems. Just to get you to come out and play. _So,_ just as a friendly warning my dear. Back off.”

Sherlock clenched his gun. “Why don’t you just kill me then? Must be easier.”

Moriarty smiled and moved a little closer. “But you are so much fun. You know, I have truly loved this, this little game of ours.”

His smile made something trigger inside Sherlock. He remembered the old woman who had died as he talked to her on the phone. She should be alive. “People have died!” he raised his voice. He was starting to get sick of Moriarty and his games. He wanted to end this.

“That’s what people do!” Moriarty roared back at Sherlock. His voice echoed through the pool, it felt like it never went away.

“I will stop you.”

He shook his head and laughed through his nose. “No you won’t.”

Sherlock looked over at John again. He was staring at the floor and Sherlock could see he was trying to control his emotions and not panic. Sherlock’s eyes went over the bombs on his chest. John looked so small in that big jacket and with all the bombs strapped onto him. Sherlock wanted to put a bullet between Moriarty’s eyes and rip the bombs of John and embrace him. But there was Moran too. He would kill them faster than the blink of an eye.

“Are you alright?” Sherlock asked. John looked up but didn’t speak.

Moriarty move closer and said into John’s ear “You can talk, Johnny boy.”

John looks at Sherlock and nods slightly.

Sherlock reached into his pocket and grabbed the USB and handed it to Moriarty. “Here take it.”

“Oooh.” Moriarty reached out his hand and took it from Sherlock’s hand. His fingers touched Sherlock’s and he looked into his eyes and smiled. Sherlock quickly pulled his hand away from him, a shiver went down his spine and he clutched his gun hard.

Moriarty looked at the USB as if it was a treasure, he kissed it and looked at Sherlock. He held his gaze for two seconds and then threw the USB into the pool. “Boring! I could have gotten them anywhere.”  

John sees a chance and jumps Moriarty. He has a tight grip around his arms with one arm and the other one he had across Moriarty’s throat. “Sherlock, run!”

But of course he didn’t. Sherlock was surprised by John’s move and he lost his focus and looked confused. John saw his hands tremble as they gripped the gun tight.

Moriarty didn’t struggle, he laughed. “This is so adorable. Just as cute as always you two.”

John tightened his grip around Moriarty. The fear had washed away, the only thing that was left was anger.

“If your sniper pull that trigger we both blow up.”

“He is so sweet isn’t he Sherlock. No wonder you still have him around after all these years. However, I’m sad to say, you have rather shown your hand, Johnny.”

A red dot appeared on Sherlock’s forehead. John’s heart stopped. This time they might actually die. 

John realise there is nothing he can do and lets go of Moriarty and backs of, hands in the air.  

Moriarty laughs, but he stops as soon as he sees the state of his suit. It’s no longer perfectly pressed but wrinkled. He carefully flattens his suit and looks at Sherlock. He looks annoyed. He then puts his hands in his trouser pockets.

“Do you know what happens if you don’t leave me alone? Do you want me to tell you?”

“Let me guess. You kidnap me, torture me, maybe kill me.”

Moriarty raises his eyebrow and then exhaled through his nose. He is disappointed.

“No! To boring. Tooo boooring, my dear.” He looks down at his shoe. Maybe there is some dirt on it because he looks disgusted. He then looks up at Sherlock again. “To boring right now at least. Someday though.” He looks up through a window behind Sherlock. He smiles. “I’m saving it.”

“Of course you are.” Sherlock’s eyes are focused on Moriarty’s every move. No more surprises.

“If you don’t stop putting your nose in my business I will burn you. I will burn, the heart out of you.” He smiles and tilts his head, like an innocent boy would.

Sherlock don’t quite know what he means, but he is afraid it might involve John. He is his only weakness, a very easy one for Moriarty to use. Sherlock stands a little straighter and lifts his chin just a bit so he looks confident.

“I have been informed that I don’t have one.” He tried hard to sound confident, but he thought of John and it was as if Moriarty had looked into his eyes and read his mind because that big smile of his spread across his face and soon he was laughing.

“We both know that’s not true.” He threw a glance at John and Sherlock could not stop his eyes from wander in the same direction. He looked at John, so brave. When his eyes returned to Moriarty he was already looking at Sherlock. The smile still on his lips.

Moriarty clapped his hands and then rubbed them together. “Well, I’d better be off. Things to do, people to see. It was nice seeing the two of you again. I really missed you so much.”

Sherlock’s patient was running out, he was done being toyed with. “I could pull the trigger right now.”

“But would you? You are smart Sherlock, you know what would happen if you did.” He looked over Sherlock’s head, as if he was looking at someone behind him. “Sebby wouldn’t be very happy with you.” He looked at Sherlock again for a second before he turned and started to walk to the exit. “Ciao, Sherlock.” As he walked by John he put a hand on his shoulder. “Bye John.”

He walked out of an old creaking door, his footsteps echoed through the room. Sherlock was still pointing his gun at the direction Moriarty had disappeared. “Catch. You. Later.” Sherlock said just before the door slammed shut.

“No you won’t” echoed and was then followed by a big slam.

Sherlock looks at John, he looks back. Sherlock almost throws his gun on the floor and starts to remove the bombs on John’s chest. His hands are shacking and Sherlock frantically tries to get the bombs of John as fast as he can.

“Sherlock!”

Finally he gets the jacket of and the bombs with it. Sherlock throws it as far away from them as he can. He runs his hands over John’s chest, arms, legs, and face just to make sure he is intact. When he is sure John is okay he grab the gun on the floor and run through the door Moriarty had left through.

John is left alone in the pool and it is in this moment he is realising how close they came to actually die. The fear washed over him like a tsunami, his legs felt like spaghetti and he can no longer stand up. He squats against the wall and tries to catch his breath. He is so powerful. He can do whatever he wants. John rests his elbows against his knees and buries his face in his hands. Are they going to stop him? How?

Sherlock comes back and finds John on the floor. He don’t know what to do. What to say. He starts to walk up and down the side of the pool.  His hands are still shaking and his legs feel wobbly.

“You okay?” John asks. He tries to stand up and Sherlock walks up to him and gives him a helping hand.

“Yeah? Me? I’m fine. Just fine.” His voice was shaking just slightly but it was enough for John to pick up. He wrapped his arms tightly around Sherlock, and he felt Sherlock’s arms embrace him. They stood in silence and listen to each other’s breaths and heartbeats. John knew Sherlock would never admit it but John had seen fear in Sherlock’s eyes. He usually had full control of the situation, but when Moriarty was in the picture no one had control but him.

“Thank you. For what you…offered to do…that…that was…good.”

John stroked Sherlock’s back and kissed his cheek.  “It was a long time since you ripped my clothes of that quickly.” A shaky laugh escaped and he smiled.

Sherlock felt John’s breath as he spoke against his skin. He exhaled and let a small smile spread across his lips and he tightened his grip around John even more. Sherlock felt safe here, John in his arms and against his neck, it felt right. He made a promise to himself. He was going to do everything he needed to make sure John was safe. Anything, everything, because he was worth it all.

Sherlock moved his hands to John’s cheek and gently stroked them with his thumbs. He was perfect, a smile on his lips. He traced John’s lower lip with one of his thumbs, just as he was going to lean forward and press his own lips against John’s. Sherlock saw a red dot on John’s forehead. A door creaked and familiar footsteps echoed.

“No…” Sherlock whispered.

“Sorry boys. I’m sooo changeable! It is a weakness with me, but to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness.”

Sherlock looked over John’s shoulder and saw Moriarty. He pushed John behind him and stood in front of him as a shield. He grabbed the gun and held it tightly in his hand.

“You can’t be allowed to continue.” Moriarty said as he walked in and stopped right behind the jacket that Sherlock had thrown. “You just can’t.” He paused and looked at Sherlock and then John. He probably wanted to see how they reacted to this little plot twist of his. He looked pleased when he locked his eyes on Sherlock again. “I would try to convince you, but everything I have to say has already crossed your mind.”

“Probably my answer has crossed yours.” Sherlock raised his gun and pointed it straight at Moriarty. He sighed and looked disappointed. Does he really think I am so stupid, Sherlock thought.

Sherlock lowered his gun and was now pointing it at the jacket with the bombs. He glanced over his shoulder and saw John, pressed against the wall, red dots all over him, he looked at Sherlock. Sherlock knew John would always trust him in any scenario, any situation. Was this making him question Sherlock’s sanity? No. He looked scared, but determined. He wanted Moriarty taken care of just as much as Sherlock. Maybe their lives would be worth to sacrifice for this.

When Sherlock looked at Moriarty he was not surprised to meet a smiling face. This was exciting. This wasn’t boring. If Sherlock was to pull the trigger he wouldn’t be disappointed. But in his eyes Sherlock saw a question. _Can you sacrifice John?_

Sherlock stared into Moriarty’s eyes. He was waiting. Waiting for Sherlock to act. To make a choice.

The End


End file.
